Jettisoned
by ugh
Summary: This is how the trolls got to earth, after being nearly pummeled to death by mind-controlled trolls, imprisoned by pir8s, and surviving a deadly crash (The official before, during, and after for OUaD) Also includes intermissions with Dirk/Roxy and Jake/Jane. Rated for language, major character deaths, and future trigger warnings. (multiple pairings)
1. And Now We're Going to Die

Things that aren't supposed to happen, but happened anyway.

* * *

"About the hemospectrum," Feferi paused for effect. Good, just like she was taught. Eridan stood by her side while Karkat looked on from offstage.

All she has to do is follow the script that she and Karkat painstakingly wrote together. He hates politics and would rather be doing his dream job of thresecutioning with his matesprit, but this is the only thing his lowblood status can get him. Nowadays, lowbloods can be appointed higher statuses, but they still can't ascend naturally. He is a campaign manager, whatever that is. It's a process. It's also a ridiculous premise, since Feferi invented the job, but it earns his keep and prevents his immediate culling. He owes a lot to the naïve Troll, but who's complaining?

"Things have to change," she continues. Oh, shit. The crowd begins to murmur. "This hierarchy is corrupt!" No. Stop.

Eridan reaches forward, gently pulling on her arm. "Fef, not yet!" he pleads. As a "vice", or second-in-command, whatever they call it, he has no guts when it concerned his moirail. What a shitty choice. Vriska the pirate would have been a better choice. Or whatever she calls herself nowadays; the Explorer or something. It's too soon to call herself a legend; she's barely out of her hometown, which just so happens to be the town next to Karkat's.

She gently shoves him away as the murmuring escalates into arguing and shouts.

That fucking idiot! Karkat drags his hand down his face in the facepalm of century. As her advisor, he constantly advises her not to propose such big changes until after she takes the throne. At this rate—

"It's unfair to all, even myself! I know it sounds crazy now, but if I become a martyr that day, I will be fighting for all of you, glub damn it!" She finishes, pounding on the podium. But instead of an angry mob of lowbloods overtaking the stage, there were cheers and chanting.

Dumbfounded, Karkat stares out into the crowd, where horns of all shapes and sizes bounce like waves in the ocean where her Imperious Condescension hails from. As violent as modern society is, he is actually surprised they can all assemble like this peacefully. Giving the situation one last look-over, he deems it safe to emerge and herd the politicians off-stage.

Karkat Vantas  
Age: 8 ½ sweeps  
Occupation: Manager/grubsitter  
Blood Caste: [REDACTED]  
Legacy: The youngest Troll ever to do this shit

* * *

Karkat Vantas returns to his shared hive just before dawn, as usual. There are two things he wants right now, the second being sleep. The first greets him at the door. Rather, she startles him into a panic attack.

"Karkat!" she shouts, making him jump into the stratosphere.

The first being her.

"I wasn't worried at all!" she says a little too loudly and flinging her arms around him. He calms down and returns the gesture, burying his face in her hair.

"I thought I was going to die out there, Terezi," he mutters, holding her tight. He inhales through his nose memorizing her scent. "Fucking highbloods and their sense of entitlement."

"I'm going to ignore that," she mutters back sarcastically. He doesn't even consider her a highblood on a normal basis. She is also a sweep-and-a-half older than he is. Why should that even matter?

He quickly mutters an apology, then continues. "I'm not looking forward to tomorrow's speech."

"The highbloods tomorrow, right?" she confirms, parting from him.

"I'm going to lose sweeps off of my already unknown lifespan for sure." He follows her to their block, where he sheds his simple suit marked with Feferi's insignia on the back, and his own on the front, identifying him under the protection of her caste. His job comes with some perks. Eridan's publicity clothing is marked the same way, except flashier. Symbolically, this is supposed to prevent backstabbing. They both change into their slime-clothes, which Terezi can actually afford, special outfits that can be worn in cocoons, which are made out of slime-resistant material.

"Did you cancel your hate date tomorrow?"

"Why wouldn't I Karkles?" She smirks and raises an eyebrow.

"Because maybe I need a moirail if I survive tomorrow's event?"

"Didn't you dump him?"

"I did."

She stares at him incredulously in his general direction, not quite on-target.

"Who else is there?"

She draws her mouth to the side.

"Fuck, I don't know! And stop staring at me like that, you're making me feel like you have pale feelings for me or something!" There was a time that he wanted her in every quadrant, but those days were long past.

She saunters forward seductively. "And if I did?" She takes his hands in hers, making him flush a deep red.

"Fuck you! You're just as flushed as I am!" he protests.

At that point, she cackles and leads his hands to his face, smacking either side lightly. He could have sworn she whispered for him to stop hitting himself.

* * *

The two awaken with a jolt, to a desperate banging on their hive door. He peels himself off her like he usually does and glances at the time. He could have slept for another hour. His eye twitches instinctively. Whoever this is had better have a reason for waking him up before the crack of sunset. Not even bothering to wipe off the slime, he puts on some two-day-old soiled pants that needed to be washed anyway. The insistent banging continues.

"Okay, okay! God! I'm coming!" he shouts. Terezi is already up and heads into the bathroom, muttering that she might as well just get the work day going. Karkat mutters slews of curses instead. Peering through the primitive visual portal, he grimaces, too tired for this shit. He flings the door open, shading his eyes. "What do you want?" Fresh grubs on a _stick_, it's bright.

"I'm worried about Fef," Eridan mumbles.

"What, no commentary on how a lowblood of my status was rude just now?" Karkat snides.

"I'm searious, Kar!" he begs. "She's goin' to get herself culled if her Imperious finds out! Plus you know I'm not like that anemonemore." It takes all of Karkat's self-control not to roll his eyes.

He sighs. "Knowing her, she probably already knows and doesn't care."

"Can this actually work though? A new gowernment?"

"Look, Eridan, come inside, you're already sunburned, we'll talk there."

Eridan complies and Karkat shuts the door.

"I've already come to terms with this. It's not going to be perfect, dumbass! It's a theory at best, and it's already been attempted with terrible results."

"I just can't help feelin' that this is a bad idea." Eridan looks off to the side.

"I know what you're going to say. Just say it."

Eridan narrows his eyes, now eye-to-eye with Karkat. "You shouldn't have giwen her that book."

"You mean my ancestor's _journal_? I didn't! I just showed it to her."

"Why?!"

"I didn't expect her to run with it! It was also stolen from me multiple times by certain females, and through an overcomplicated series of events, physically got into her hands! It's not my fault she knows how to read!"

"You should hawe just burned the dam thing!" he yells, throwing his arms in the air.

"And destroy all that was left of my ancestor?!" He pauses. "Actually, that might not have been such a bad idea."

"Save your glubbin' ancestor-hatin' story for someone who cares. I'm supposed to be her moirail and I'm doing an awful job of it!" Karkat notes the changing timbre in Eridan's voice at the latter part of that sentence.

"Speaking of moirails, why did you come here? I'm not some cheap pale whore."

"I thought you were my friend."

"Friends don't tattle on moirails. Just talk to her, she'll understand." There was no conviction in his voice, and Eridan picked up on that.

Eridan sighs and dramatically collapses on the only sofa in the hive. "I'll just sleep here until the sun goes down." He drapes his arm over his eyes, his sunburn already almost healed. Karkat sighs and retrieves a towel damp with slime.

"Here, it looks like you haven't slept all day." Karkat drops it on Eridan's arm.

He hears Terezi stepping out of the shower, warns her that Eridan is around, and then showers himself.

* * *

"Feferi, do me a favor?" Karkat asks. He and Feferi sat alone in the soundproof room behind the stage. The outdoor bandshell amphitheatre they rented was filled to the brim with highbloods, and there were even more crowding the ground level. It was nowhere near as primitive as the rickety stage they were on yesterday. This one made the one yesterday look like a wooden crate.

"Yes Karkat?" she answers with fake glee. She is nervous, but hiding it well.

"Please don't die."

"I won't."

"No surprises."

"Glub!"

"_No surprises_."

"But I planned one just for you!"

"No. Fucking. _Surprises_."

"Everything that we rehearsed, right?"

"Yes. Thank you."

She looked about the room. "Where's Eridan?"

Shit. Karkat hadn't seen him since he left the hive. He kicked himself for not dragging Eridan's sorry seadweller ass with him to the rally. "I don't know."

"He'll be here," she tried to assure herself. She was obviously distraught. She needed her moirail and he wasn't around.

"Yeah, sure," Karkat said under his breath. He wasn't even sure himself.

As if on cue, the moirail in question busts in with a small box in tow. "Sorry I'm late, Fef! I had to get this thing!"

"You're late!" she scolds, standing up quickly. She couldn't hide her nervousness anymore, and her lips started to quiver.

"I'm so sorry," he says softly, stroking her cheek with his free hand. "I saw this and the pet store man refused to let it go without me payin' for it." He holds up the box between them and opens it. After he does so, she gasps and reaches inside, pulling out a perfect glass orb filled with water… and a tiny cuttlefish swimming inside. It couldn't have been older than a baby. She smiles widely and puts her face against it.

"It's perfect," she whispers. She pulls Eridan down and kisses his cheek at the base of his fin. Karkat wished he would have a consistent moiraillegence like this. Instead he has… well, Gamzee.

Karkat looked at his watch, suddenly aware that they were on a schedule. "Okay, break it up. Feferi, let's get this over with."

"Okay, Crankat!" she replies, all of her fear outwardly dissipated. Karkat's eye twitches again.

* * *

"About the hemospectrum…" So far, Feferi has kept her word and kept the speech a carbon copy of yesterday's. So far, the crowd has been calm. Karkat figures that it's due to the two highest of highbloods on the stage.

The highest that he can see among the crowd are some scattered purple-bloods. One of them wasn't paying attention to the speech at all, scratching at his face and squirming where he sat. He made eye contact with another purple-blood and the other one shook his head slightly. If Karkat hadn't been looking right at him, this exchange would have gone unnoticed. The first purple-blood directed his gaze to the stage once again. Karkat put his hand on his sickle and began to carefully sneak up on the purple-blood.

As he makes his way down, he bumps into a road block. He looks up at the Troll to see if he can pass by unscathed and not give away his position. It was another purple-blood, easily two heads taller than Karkat's average stature. They lock themselves into a glaring contest, sizing each other up, the sound of Feferi's amplified voice fading. The tall purple-blood scoffs and looks back at the stage. As soon as he does, evidence of some white makeup that had been missed while washing it away confirms Karkat's fears: subjuggulators. He grips the hilt of his weapon, slowly backtracking to the stage. He can practically feel his anxiety levels maxing out. They were so off the charts, he couldn't even remember his own name; fight or flight, and both are impossible. All that's left now is alarm.

"As a member of the highest caste, I find this completely unfair!" Feferi continues. The highbloods begin to chatter now. Karkat needs to get to her fast, give her the signal to end the speech quickly.

Karkat gives a wave, getting her attention, and then runs his thumb across his neck.

She blinks, an affirmative action. She faces the audience again. "Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not in the next sweep, but eventually, I have plans to incorporate Trolls of every level so that we may all be on equal ground!" The crowd gets louder.

Karkat looks over at the audience to locate the subjuggulators, but every single one has dissolved in the crowd, which was now on its feet. Shit!

Now that Karkat is thinking about it, the location is optimal for a public execution by angry mob. The bandshell was in a bowl, a valley, and the only way to get out was through the crowd. He gulps nervously, mouth suddenly devoid of all moisture.

They're all going to die.


	2. Never Let Go

"Nepeta, we both know you are not allowed around here," her moirail reminded her. She wasn't worried, though.

"As long as I am wearing my purrfect disguise, I will be fine!" She gives her highblooded (and unsurprisingly closed-minded) moirail a thumbs-up. She straightens her hat and pulls her long sleeves down, covering up the various scars that she acquired through countless hunting expeditions, as well as a tattoo of her sign on her shoulder.

"I am still wondering why you brought those weapons with you," Equius says, pointing to her semi-inconspicuous gloves. The three retractable knives embedded in them have gone undetected so far.

"What? They're close to your blood color so they are okay! I don't have many things in blue, so there's nothing wrong with wearing them all at once when I have the oppurrtunity." She glances around, and sees a ceruleanblood with a dagger at his belt. "See? Look!" she exclaims, pointing excitedly. "Whoop!" Equius had grabbed around her waist and carried her off like a sack of grubs.

"There is no need to draw attention to yourself," he mutters. "The speech is about to begin, and we need to find our places."

"You're so sweet, Equius," she giggles, patting his arm. She couldn't reach his head, so his arm was the best she could do.

He mutters something that sounded like a "Don't mention it," and finally found an opening on the side of the stage.

"Can we sit in the middle? I like to see the whole stage!" Nepeta suggests. "And can I walk now?"

"My apologies. And no. This spot is fine," he replies.

"Mean! I won't enjoy it!" she plops down with her arms crossed, glaring at the stage.

"Yes you will," he orders, sitting down next to her.

"Nope!"

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes."

She lets out a groan of frustration as the speakers send feedback through the audience. The soundwaves wreak havoc on Nepeta's sensitive hunting ears as she immediately claps her fists over them.

Equius pats her back as gently as he could, comforting her. He tugs on her sleeve when they disappear.

"Now, I know you have all been waiting for this for sweeps, but somehow there are actually some of us who don't like the bullshit we have to face every day of our fucking lives." The master of ceremonies, whose blood color was not visible on his sign, spoke.

"Such language," Equius mutters.

"Shh!" Nepeta whispers. "You said you wanted to see things my way, so at least listen!"

Nepeta had never seen this Troll before, and now that she heard his words, she was curious to know more, and he wasn't even the guest of honor! She put her chin in her hands, then her elbows on her knees, her full attention the politicians onstage. They were purroposing—er, proposing a lot of things that were different, but she agrees with them nonetheless.

She sneaks a peek out of the corner of her eye, and finds her moirail not only paying attention, but he had also taken off his glasses while she wasn't looking.

"What do you think?" she whispers, leaning towards him diagonally.

"I think what they are proposing will get them all assassinated," he deadpans.

Nepeta turns her face to him, squinting her eyes. He glances at her expression quickly and beads of sweat start to form on his forehead.

"But," he pauses. "Perhaps in the future it can be done."

"Maybe," she sighs, positioning back to normal. "It'd really be unfortunate if—"

She tenses, every single hair and follicle on her body springing to life. She inhales sharply through her nostrils as a feeling of terror engulfs the crowd. She starts to purr menacingly and grips the wooded bench tightly.

"Nepeta, stop breaking the bench," Equius warns.

Her angry purrs turn into growls in response.

"Are you okay?" He appurrently stopped paying attention to the speech.

She contains her growls and struggles to speak. "I feel," she mutters. Swallowing hard, she tries to speak again, failing.

"You don't look well. We must leave."

"It might be too late," she manages to get out, facing him.

"What?" He glances around the area, calculating a path of escape. The Trolls surrounding them were getting antsy and wild.

"I don't like this."

"Unclench your hands, you're bleeding."

She complies. She holds up her hands in front of her face. Sure enough, her fingernails were bleeding, revealing her lowblood color to any highblood that was paying attention at that moment.

He fiddles around for something to wrap her hands with, but gets distracted by extremely loud feedback from the microphone. He clamps his palms to his ears to block out the noise, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Equius!" Nepeta shrieks. "It's not real! Snap out of it! Open your eyes and look!"

Despite himself, he keeps them shut, barely able to hear her voice anymore. His muscles tense and flex, ready for assault if necessary. Why did he need to attack? Was Nepeta injured? Yes, the noise is painful to her, possibly more than his own pain. It needed to stop. The feedback that came from it needed to be stopped. How dare they do this. He began to see what Nepeta had been telling him about the highest of highbloods' abuse of power. He now feels so angry about his own shortsightedness. Something must be done. Something was telling him that silencing the ones onstage would solve this. Yes, that is a good decision.

A sharp pain inflames his cheek and he opens his eyes to a distressed Nepeta and a flurry of citizens rushing past. She was fine. There was no feedback. His ears aren't ringing either, like the feedback had never existed. He was thinking about attacking the very Trolls he had complimented earlier for their outlandish proposals about peace on Alternia. Nepeta's eyes fill up with tears as she smiles at him.

"Don't you efurr do that again!" she scolds, wagging her finger at him with more of her blood dripping down her hand.

"Not in a thousand sweeps," he replies.

One of the other members of the audience bumps into Nepeta, nearly knocking her over. It was the master of ceremonies himself, the lowblood that announced the event! Equius hesitates before attacking that shorter Troll only because his weapon was drawn and his expression was alarmed.

"You, stop," Equius orders.

"I don't have time for you, she's going to die and it's all my fault!" he answers angrily.

"That's awful!" Nepeta exclaims. She shoots Equius a look. He understood. She looks back at the short one. "How can we help?"

"If you can figure out a way to get us out of here alive, I'll owe you!" He shoves past the other Trolls in the direction of the stage. The highblood politicians there were definitely in danger, even if they did have super healing abilities. Nothing could save them if they were torn apart.

"Are you ready, Equius?" Nepeta asks her moirail, tightening her claw gloves. She looked up at him with only her eyes and a toothy smirk.

He punches the palm of his other hand, returning the smile. "It certainly has been a long time since I have had worthy opponents." Most of these highbloods have powers stronger than his, but it did not deter him.

Equius clears a path through the crowd towards the stage by hitting with the ground with a strong punch, which sends a shockwave through the grounds, making Trolls of all sizes lose their balance. He takes Nepeta in his arm gently and dashes to the stage, where the rude Troll from before had gotten the politicians out of sight. He figures they are backstage, so he leaps on it and charges for the wall that divided the stage and where he thought the green room was. He lets Nepeta down and palms it, smashing a rather large hole in it.

He removed his hand only to find an angry lowblood on the other side.

"You didn't have to smash through the fucking wall!" he yells.

"Language, lowblood!"

"This is not the time! Either help us or don't!"

"Equius, I think something is furry, I mean very wrong," Nepeta warns.

Equius turns to her. Her expression is extremely worrisome. She stood poised for battle as fellow highbloods start to storm the stage. Their expressions remind him of what he went through just moments before; they are being influenced by something. It's not their fault. This will not be easy.

Nepeta Leijon  
Age: 9 sweeps  
Occupation: Hunter  
Blood Caste: Olive  
Legacy: Loyal Guardian

Equius Zahhak  
Age: 10 sweeps  
Occupation: Butler  
Blood Caste: Indigo  
Legacy: Victim #23

* * *

Nepeta swipes her claws left and right, taking down highbloods that come near their tight group. She never thought that she would ever fight them, since it meant death no matter what the verdict. It wasn't fair, and she had hoped the people she is protecting would change all that. Of course all of her hopes would go out the door before the first swipe of her claws. Even if she was never caught, she would still be guilty.

The one who opened the confurrence with his speech, who identified himself as "Karkat", had joined you and your meowrail in the fight. They are surrounded, and there's no pawsible way to get out.

"There's no possible way to get out of here!" Karkat yells, severing a hand from an oncoming Troll. Despite the situation, she felt her heart flutter at the fact that they were thinking the same thing.

"Do you have any other suggestions, lowblood?" Equius chimes, sending a fellow member of his caste flying. They had made it to the edge of the stage, and that Troll landed somewhere among the rest trying to storm it.

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking!" He snarls at the comment and lands a finishing blow the Troll he had dismembered.

"I might have a suggestion!" Feferi shouts over the crowd. "Just let them take me, I'll survive! I can just—"

"Fuck no!" Karkat and Eridan yell simultaneously.

"I'm not going to let you die, not ever!" Eridan yells. Nepeta eyes a tealblood heading for Eridan and pounces between them, thrusting her claws into her gut. Her blood is cooler than Nepeta's, and it reminds her of when Equius hurt his hand while smashing rocks away after her hive had caved in, trapping her and killing her lusus. Good moirails protect each other, live for each other, and never let each other go. She pushed the dead Troll towards an oncoming one.

"But they're after _me_! Maybe if—" He silenced her. Nepeta glances at the pair and sees them liplocked, Eridan grabbing her collar with both hands. She blushes and turns ahead, assisting Equius by kicking his attacker in the knee, bending it backward. The Troll screams in pain for only a split second.

"I'll let them rip me apart before I let them take you away," he mutters. "Not again." Her sensitive ears can pick up that much.

"As much as I love to hear you two have sloppy makeouts right here on the stage like some fucking movie, I'd really appreciate it if you'd pay attention and come up with a plan that isn't utter shit!" Karkat yells vehemently as he takes down a ceruleanblood in one fatal swipe to the neck.

Nepeta glances at Equius, catching him eyeing the two highbloods himself. He reaches for her and pulls her close, backhanding another ceruleanblood that was about to attack her. She could tell he was affected by the actions of the other two and utters four simple words.

"Be prepared to catch."

Before she could ask, he turns her around roughly for her, gently for him, grabs the back of her shirt collar with hand and the bottom with the other, and propels her to an empty part of the side of the amphitheater's audience section. She shrieks as she flies, but lands on all fours instinctually. She gasps and looks down at him, her breath caught in her throat.

"Equius…!" Nepeta whispers, tears forming in her eyes. She begins to hyperventilate. Didn't he hear a word that Eridan just said?! Equius knows better than to—

He raises his hand and points at her with two fingers, and separates them, making half of a diamond shape with them. He elbows an oncoming Troll without breaking eye contact. She purses her quivering lips, raising her hand to complete the diamond. She sniffs and wipes away tears, nodding to tell him she was ready to catch.

He approaches Feferi, and she nods in agreement. Always the highbloods first. Nepeta steadies herself with open arms as he hoists the fuchsiablood and throws her. Nepeta catches her with ease. She's slightly bony, but Nepeta can tell that she's entirely muscle.

Equius does the same with Eridan, who's more wary and reluctant, but complies all the same. He yells as he flies, trying not to flail around. She grimaces, not wanting him to injure himself if he lands on her wrong. He's a lot heavier than Feferi, and he makes her stumble backward, cursing all the way. She hisses in response, and flees to Feferi's side.

Nepeta readies for Karkat's arrival and sees him arguing with Equius. The rest of the Trolls are closing in fast, not seeming to realize that the original target has already escaped. Equius finally gets frustrated and snatches up Karkat's upper arm, most surely bruising it and launches him at her, flailing violently. This will not end well. He lands roughly, crushing her against the grass. She groans and he peels himself off, yelping. She snaps out of her awe that his eyes have deep red splotches forming and scrambles back to her feet. She doesn't like what she sees.

Equius is completely surrounded. He has no backup and they're very close now, and starting to injure him. She feels like she's going to puke.

"Equius!" Nepeta screams above the crowd.

She can barely make out a reply, "Nepeta!"

"Equius, jump!" she screams again, tears streaming down. "Strong jump! Please! Equius!"

He's not going to make it. The attacks are getting more accurate and his injuries and getting worse. He pushes two away only to have three more take their places. Finally, a small clearing appears and he readies to jump when the ceruleanblood with the dagger from earlier thrusts into his side, spilling blood.

"EQUIUS!" she half screams, half hisses. She gets ready to pounce when he is engulfed with Trolls and someone grabs around her waist.

"You can't save him, dumbass!" Karkat yells.

"NOO!" She frantically scratches at him, but misses and gets herself instead. She cries out but keeps her eyes on the stage, scouring the crowd for some sign of her meowrail. After everything they had been through, this was not how it was going to end! She won't be helpless! Nefurr! Karkat's saying something, but she can't hear.

Finally, she sees a familiar hand with his half of the diamond. She stops flailing and returns the gesture, her vision almost completely blurred. All she feels are her self-inflicted injuries and tears streaming down, down, down, saturating the dry ground.

"We have to go," Feferi says gently, breaking the silence and the blackness. Nepeta looks up to see a sincere expression. She's right. There's no time to grieve.

Nepeta wipes away final tears and says, "Okay." Karkat gets her back to her feet.

"We'll go to my hive," Karkat offers. "My matesprit is a legislacerator, she'll find out what happened here." And just like that, Nepeta feels a stab, then nothing.

"Are you sure?" Eridan asks.

"She can take care of herself." Karkat sounds resolved, and it seems to convince the group.

* * *

Three hours later, they approach a middle-end neighborhood, hives similar to that of Equius'. Everything seems to be working out, despite everything—

"No," Karkat breathes. "No, no, no, no, no, no, NO!" He takes off, leaving the three alone. He races toward a thin pillar of black smoke a couple blocks ahead. He doesn't even take the roads and cuts in between properties.

"Karkat, where are you going?!" Eridan shouts after him.

Nepeta knew that she couldn't leave the highbloods alone in this neighborhood, so she briefly takes over guarding them as they make their way to Karkat's shared hive. They follow Karkat quickly down the path he took.

There, at the source of the pillar was a smoldering pile of debris that was once a hive, and a single tall, thick pole in the middle, a Troll hanging by her neck about halfway down. Karkat stood staring at the Troll, not speaking. His face contorts, and Nepeta isn't sure if it's anger, pain, or both. His breaths get shorter as he chokes and lets out a strained cry.


	3. Yo Ho, Yo Ho, You Are a Pir8te!

"Terezi!" That must be her name. "TEREZI!" He punches the pole as hard as he can, cracking both it and the bones in his hand. The pole sways slightly with the force, the body swinging with it. "Fuck!" He removes his hand to reveal bright red blood, which is unheard of according to Nepeta's personal knowledge.

She cautiously approaches, reaching her hand out. She hesitates, and Karkat collapses to his knees, chanting his matesprit's name over and over. Instead, she curls her hand into a fist and withdraws it. Out of curiosity, she looks up and sees something very purrculiar.

Terezi was beautiful, Nepeta concluded. But there's something scrawled on her face. She got Karkat's attention.

"Karkat, look!" she says, pointing.

"What the hell do you want?!" he yells.

"Look!"

He does. "What, I don't see… any…thing…" He squints his eyes. "No," he says between gritted teeth. "He wouldn't. He can't. HE'S NOT _ALLOWED_!" Nepeta flinches at the sound of him hitting the pole again, this time splintering it some. She has had enough of all this pain and sufurring! She springs into action.

"Please stop hurting yourself!" she cries, hugging him from behind.

"Let me go, you don't understand!" Karkat yells, grabbing at her arms. It was no use; Nepeta's strength training plus her experience with wild animals succeeding in keeping Karkat from getting infected and pawsibly dying. Not on her watch. She manages to subdue the hand that was trying to beat her away.

"No, Nepeta does understand!" she yells back. She's fallen into her bad habit of referring herself in third person again. She swore never to do it in real life, but she didn't know how else to say the words right now. "Nepeta lost her meowrail today! Twice! And she didn't even get to give him a prroper goodbye!" Tears sting her eyes as she remembers not two hours ago.

He stops struggling.

"At first, he almost fell prey to some mind-controlling high pitch. He almost killed even Nepeta, his own moirail, a lowblood."

Karkat relaxes a bit. "Nepeta, I…" He pauses, unsure what to say.

"Nepeta didn't know what else to do, so she slapped him hard," she continues. "She felt guilty, bringing him all the way out here to try to change his views, and then…" She chokes on the words. "He made Nepeta so purroud by going out of his way to purrotect someone he just met. He's a big softie, under that ridiculous muscle."

She glances up at Karkat to see that the distortion in his face had been replaced with melancholy. Feferi and Eridan stand flushed shoulder-to-shoulder, holding hands. Feferi has tears in her eyes and Eridan is looking away.

Karkat groans weakly. "Fine…" he whispers. He then grits his teeth and snarls. "But this isn't over. This isn't something I'm going to easily forget."

What did Nepeta get herself into?

* * *

"So who's this asshat?" Vriska asks her first m8te. Er, mate. Some stowaway found himself in her private stash last night. Now he's tied to the steering wheel. This was a terrible idea. Like hell she'll show it on her face. He doesn't seem to realize the predicament he's in, though, and it's starting to annoy her.

"He has not said his name yet," Kanaya answers. She's been Vriska's moirail since grubhood, and they've been running a tight-knit crew for barely a sweep. They haven't been doing so well, and the rest of the crew knows it. Kanaya is keenly aware that they only follow Vriska because they're being controlled. The only one she doesn't control is Kanaya.

"Maybe he needs to be taught a lesson first," Vriska sneers.

"Hey sis, what is _up_ on this wicked ship you call home?" Oh, _shit_. She barely recognized him without his paint.

Vriska facepalms with a loud slap. "In the brig!" she orders.

"Vriska, what—" Kanaya asks.

"In! The! Briiiiiiiig!" she yells. She storms away. She'll figure out what to do with him later. She turns back. "And some shoosh papping! In my quarters! After you put him in the brig! I'll be in my quarters!" Things have gotten complicated. _God d8mn it!_

"Aye, aye, captain," Kanaya sighs. What even made her ever feel red for that blue-blooded troll in the first place? She is glad that her feelings have receded back to pale. And that Vriska never knew of them. "As for you, whoever-your-name-is—"

"Gamzee," he corrects.

"Gamzee," she repeats. "For whatever reason, Captain Spinneret has decided to put you in the brig to subject you to formal torture."

His loopy grin falters. This does not faze her in the slightest.

"There is the small problem of transporting you." She pauses to think. "I could always knock you out, that way—"

He mutters something too low for her to hear.

"What?"

"I SAID, YOU WON'T LAY A FINGER ON ME, BITCH!" he shouts. He stares at her with a mad grin.

Only slightly annoyed, Kanaya sighs and approaches him. He never breaks eye contact. As soon as she is close enough, she backhands him hard. "Don't make get out my lipstick," she warns.

The violence only seems to make him boil with rage. "Or what?" he asks. "YOU'LL MAKEUP ME TO DEATH?" He laughs maniacally, stomping his feet on the floorboards.

She reaches into her pants pocket and pulls out a tube of lipstick. She turns it, and it transforms into a giant chainsaw. Gamzee stares at it, wide-eyed.

"Motherfuckin' miracles," he mumbles. Instead of begging for his life, he simply smiles, coming down from him anger.

"Now hold still, I am going to sever your ties." She revs it up and cleanly cuts the ropes, narrowly missing the wheel. He falls to the ground on his knees. "Thank you, sis."

"You do not address me with such informalities," she replies, putting her chainsaw away. "You are still a stowaway on this ship." She bends down and yanks him up roughly by his arm.

"Ain't you a little early to wax black for someone so high up the castes?" he teases. Kanaya doesn't think it's very funny.

"Ain't you a little early to be this inebriated for someone to drag you around like a grub?" she counters. "And I don't care what blood color you have, you are still trespassing."

"I'm sorry," he says after he is dragged down the stairs to the deck below.

"I don't care," she says. Only two more decks to go.

"This brother lost his kismesis today. I guess I'm all just bent out of shape about it."

She wants to ask, but holds her tongue. Her ashen feelings suddenly aflutter. He clumsily slips on the second set of stairs. She decides to quench her curiosity and interrogate him now. "Where was your auspistice?" Now he is a common murderer, in addition to his encroachment.

"Shoot, we didn't need one." He pauses. "Man, it's complicated."

"I am a natural meddler."

"I still don't wanna talk about it."

She stops and gets in his face. "Fine, but if you don't tell me now, you will be subject to the captain's devices." She leads him down the final set of stairs, where the brig awaits, damp and dark with only a small fake torch alight. Vriska was all for authentication, but not ready to set her ship on fire, especially when it hasn't even left port on its maiden voyage yet. "You will stay here until we call upon a threshecutioner."

The fear then sets in. "Motherfucker, you can't do that. I got their _secrets_." He points to the side of his head with his free hand. She tosses him in and he stumbles into the bench. He scrambles up as she locks the door tight. He pulls himself up by the bars.

"Tell them to Vriska." Kanaya turns to the entrance portal and opens the door.

"No, you don't understand! The secrets of all that we know of life and why we're still here. And all the death. And all the miracles that is Alternia! It's all in my thinkpan…"

"Oh boy, Alternian secrets!" she exclaims excitedly.

"DON'T YOU DARE MOCK MY INTENTIONS WITH YOUR SARCASM," he bellows.

"Darn," she mutters just loud enough for him to hear. "I'm afraid that I cannot help you. I have previous engagements."

Then the wailing begins, rattling against the bars to no avail. Vriska built them herself, and the brig itself made to withstand the imprisonment of multiple lusii at the same time.

"I sincerely apologize, highblood, but I have a moirail to console because of you. Now if you'll excuse me," she says as she slams the door shut and locks it.

Someone applauds from behind. Startled, she turns, to see a younger Troll. "Vell done, Kanaya. Did you know that you have the makings for an excellent kismesis yourself?" He smirks, leaning against the corridor with his elbow and wiggling his eyebrows. She would really wish he'd stop. He's only four sweeps old.

She rolls her eyes. "Cronus, please do not talk to me."

"Can I talk to him then?"

"No. You will not go near him. He is a stowaway."

"You're no fun at all."

"Neither is your blatant disregard for this ship's laws. Go back to your quarters at once," she orders. "You are not on duty."

"Aye, aye, madam." He salutes and skulks off.

Kanaya Maryam  
Age: 9 sweeps  
Occupation: Part-time Grubsitter, Full-time First M8te  
Blood Caste: Jade  
Legacy: The One That Will Save the Trollian Race from Utter Extinction

* * *

Vriska Serket, a.k.a. Captain Mindfang Spinneret  
Age: 9 ½ sweeps  
Occupation: Pir8te Captain  
Blood Caste: Cerulean  
Legacy: Professional Pir8te

Hello?! This professional pirate needs some professional papping before she burns her own ship down! Or before she gets into a situation where she gets her _other_ arm ripped off. She refuses to talk about this.

Vriska Serket was completely emotional. She didn't expect to see Gamzee again, especially without his face paint. She thought he was utterly devoted to his silly clown religion. Well, it serves him right. Serves him motherfuckin' right.

"Damn it!" she shouts, slamming her fist down on her wooden desk. The metal hand bends slightly and makes the wood crack and splinter. Since she felt no pain in that entire arm, it didn't make her feel any better. She really needs to forget these feelings ever existed.

What did Terezi ever see in that asshole anyway? He's lazy, rude, and not to mention really gross. He needs to leave before they take off, since she can't afford to feed his addiction of slime on a ship with so many crew members needing their own amounts to sleep in. She calculated the perfect doses for each of them to be distributed equally, and then repurposed and recycled in a device to use again. She also built the machine herself. It's nowhere near the doomsday machines she built in her younger days (a dangerous pasttime). If any were to disappear, it would be inconvenient, mainly for Vriska because she saved the most for herself. Terezi just had bad taste in men, including her mutant boyfriend.

Dusting off the wounded furniture, she sighs and straightens up her eight-sided-dice that had been displayed in a perfect roll: all eights. Just like her quarters. Eight sides. Her ship. Eight sections: The top deck, the captain's quarters, the first mate's quarters, the brig, the slime room, the consumption room, the poop deck, and the secret stash room. That last room is for contrabands only. Kanaya requested to keep her own stash in there, and refuses to reveal what it is. Lousy stupid moirail keeping secrets. She hoped that Kanaya did some preliminary questioning before—

"FUCK! YOU!" she yells into the air. She opens her drawer hastily and pulls out an eight-ball with her good hand. "How dare you steal my black crush when I told you," she rears her arm back, "IN CONFIDENCE!" _Smash! _She throws the ball as hard as she can, and it shatters against the wall, spilling blue water on the wall and the nearest rug.

"Captain!" Kanaya yells from behind.

"What?!" Vriska yells back.

"In your pile!" she barks. How dare she!

"Why, you—!"

"Pile! Now!" She points to the pile of pillows, provided by Kanaya. No one will ever know of this.

"Fine." Vriska plops into the pile, scattering some of them, and Kanaya gently sits next to her. She remains vigilant and crosses her arms.

"Come on, you asked for this." Kanaya opens her arms and raises her brows.

Vriska squints her eyes.

"Don't force me."

She continues to squint her eyes.

Through a forced smile and gritted teeth, Kanaya says, "This is what they call forcing, yes?"

As she leans toward Vriska with open arms, she leans away. "Every time we do this, and what does it accomplish?"

"It helps, so just shut up and take it!" Kanaya is getting sick of this volatile behavior.

"Stop it!" Vriska pushes the approaching arm.

"Stop resisting!" Kanaya is halfway there, despite the shoving.

"No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" Vriska has no more pile left on her side. She's trapped.

"There!" Kanaya says, finally embracing the blue-blood and immediately dives into her papping regimen. The blue-blood stops squirming. "Was that so bad?"

Vriska is silent. After her breathing calms down, she uncrosses her arms. "Is this the part where I tell you why I freaked out?"

"Is that not the point of this act?"

More silence. Then, "You've probably figured out that I knew him. He used to be this super-religious freak who painted his face. One of those subjuggalo guys." She didn't bother to make sure Kanaya was listening. "One time, we got really drunk and started getting really personal. I let it slip that I had a small black crush on one of my old FLARP friends. Well, I didn't exactly know that his mutated moirail knew her, so they kind of knew each other by association already. And then he just… took her from me! I don't know what happened between them, but we could have had a thing, you know?"

"Is this the same girl who you were close to? Terezi?"

"Yeah, she's really sharp, even though she's blind. She could do everything better than me back then! I got pissed and blinded her! Among other things…" She sighs exasperatedly. "I'm done sharing. Did you interrogate him?"

Kanaya doesn't answer.

"Hello? Alternia to Kanaya!"

"I'm here, stop that. I'm just thinking."

"Must be something important. Just spit it out!"

"Uhm… well… He told me something. There was a lot of yelling, and I got some answers, but you're not going to like one."

"I've just been shoosh-papped. I think I can take another round of bad feelings."

"He said he went a little crazy because he lost someone."

Vriska's breath hitches.

"He said it was his kismesis."

Actual tears? No, not yet. She'll have to wait until Kanaya isn't around.

"Is correct to assume that he was talking about your friend?"

Karkat must be devastated. As far as she knew, having him be in that dangerous trio was both convenient and sad.

"I think it is fair to assume that Gamzee killed her."

Vriska laughs boisterously. "Fat chance!"

"How so?"

"First, Terezi wouldn't let that happen, she'd kill him first; and second, Gamzee was fucking grateful to have someone as even-tempered as her for a kismesis! Believe me, I tried to feel ashen for them, but they didn't need me at all!" She was so loyal, too. Kanaya needs to leave so Vriska can cry where no one can hear. "Well, I'm done for today, and I need a nap! We sail at dawn, so make sure to write me a complete report!"

"What about Gamzee?"

"What _about_ Gamzee? He can starve for all I care."

"Starve?" Oh yeah, she doesn't know about the slime.

"Don't give him any slime under any circumstances, even if he's tired."

Kanaya puts her mouth into a hard line. She understands now. "Aye, aye…" She puts her arms up and lets Vriska out of the pile.


	4. If We Die Young

"Eridan, it's almost daylight!" Feferi whispers. They've been traveling all night, and might need to travel all day. Karkat doesn't show any signs of stopping, and newcomer Nepeta can probably go a few more days. But Feferi's feet are starting to hurt quite a lot. She's more used to swimming than walking. Her suit is starting to stick as well.

"I know, I just need to get us to the port," he whispers back. "My ex-kismesis liws there. Maybe she has a boat that'll leaw soon. If she's there at all."

"Are you fucking—Eridan we are _not_ going to Vriska!" Karkat protests. "The last thing Feferi's campaign needs is to have associations with a pirate!"

"Actually Karkat, I—" Feferi is interrupted by Eridan suddenly stopping the group. The small port town doesn't look too bad, she concludes. It's only a cluster of smallish buildings and a mass collection of docks. There were more piers than buildings. They hid behind a sand dune outside of town.

"Eridan, this is the stupidest idea you have ever come up with, and you are a clusterfuck of stupid ideas."

"Just shut up a minute, these towns are fiercely guarded by—" He cut himself off. "Where's the cat girl?"

Everyone looks around for Nepeta. "Oh my cod!" Feferi whispers, pointing down to the shore. Nepeta was being led away towards one of the bigger boats by someone carrying a fish.

"What does she think she's doing?" Karkat grumbles. He gets up to follow her. Eridan goes after him, taking your hand.

The mysterious figure was fast if he got her so far away in so little time. Whoever it is was going towards a secret entrance on the biggest boat on the farthest pier.

"Oh, no you don't!" Karkat yells, whipping out his sickle. He throws it just before the wooden door closes, jamming it. "Yes!"

Both he and Eridan pry the door open with a loud creak. Inside is pitch dark. Karkat reaches up and grabs his weapon before charging in himself. There is a yell and a slew of curses, sending Feferi and Eridan rushing in to help. Immediately after, the door slams shut behind them, leaving them in complete darkness.

* * *

"Intruder alert! Intruder alerrrrt!" a young troll shrieks through the corridors outside the captain's quarters. He loudly bangs on the door with both fists. "Captain, open the fuck up!" More banging.

The door flies open. Captain Vriska Mindfang Spinneret is not pleased. "Damn it, Mituna, what now?!"

"There ith! An intruder! In the brig!" he pants.

She closes her eyes, putting her hand on her forehead. "Mituna, we've been over this. Twice since yesterday. That's only Gamzee. He's our _prisoner_."

"But I heard the yelling of a different kind of voith! Down! Deep down!" he points where he came.

"You're four sweeps, not pan-damaged, so I know you know how to follow orders. Go back to the sleeping quarters until we leave port!"

"We've been here three weekth."

"You're going to suffer for that backsass, little boy."

Mituna screams in frustration, flailing his arms. "'Tula told me you're waiting for your matethprit! But you don't have a matethprit, you're old!"

"Excuse me?!" she yells. "Do I need to take you to your ancestor?"

"He'th not my antheth-tor!" he screams, kicking her in the shin.

"Ow!" He runs off. She chases him. "Get back here, you little shit!"

Mituna giggles, running for where he found the intruders. Cronus is so going get in trouble! He saw the stupid seadweller sneak away and lead the enemy back to the ship. He runs faster than the captain, so he gets there first. He unlatches the heavy door just as she gains on him. He jumps up to switch the torch on, since she keeps the prisoners in the dark. Yes, they're still there! Cronus is nowhere to be found. Fuckin' dammit!

"I told you not to engage with the prisoners!" she roars.

And suddenly, the world is full of spiders.

"Mituna, you will go to the sleeping quarters."

"I will go to the sleeping quarters," he replies robotically.

"Now!"

"Aye, captain!" he salutes and takes off. It isn't until he gets back when the mind connection is broken off and you are back in your girlfriend's arms.

"Oh, 'Tuna, I told you not to go telling people about my rad skills," Latula whispers, stroking his hair. He's laying down on the floor, his head cradled in her lap. It's his favorite spot in the world.

"Cronuth wath being bad, tho I thent him to hith doom," he said, smiling. He curls up on his side and smiles, too tired to get up.

"Promise me you won't do it again!" she pleas. She stops and nudges him with both hands.

"Okay, okay!" he answers, swaying like a wet noodle. "I'm thorry."

"Thanks, my Tuna!" She hugs him around his head.

* * *

"Eridan, what the hell are you doing here?" Vriska deadpans. This was unexpected.

"It's a long fucking story, so don't ask," Karkat states bluntly, stepping in front of her ex and his moirail.

"I didn't ask you, Krabby-Panties," she fires back. Calmly, she asks again. "Answer my question, Eridan. What are you doing here?"

"Well, it's a long story, er…" Eridan trails off, muttering tiny details.

"What? I didn't hear you. Speak up!" she orders, using her sevenfold. This is why she broke up with him. He had no entrails.

"We're on the run from subjugglators and we need to get to safety. Feferi is trying to change the political spectrum and something triggered the crowd to attack us. We've been walking all night to get here. One of our comrades was baited to this ship, so we followed her and here we are." Eridan shakes his head violently. "What was that for?!" he shouts.

Vriska shrugs. "Maybe because you were being a scared little ninny and weren't going to tell me a thing."

"Why, you—!"

"Eridan, ssh," Feferi interrupts. Always the good little girl. Typical. Changing the politics is a stupid idea anyway. He backs down and she takes his hand.

"Well, I don't particularly like politics, so I need you to leave." She pauses. "How did you get on my ship in the first place?"

"I think it's our turn to ask a question!" Karkat steps up, getting in her face. "Where's Nepeta?"

Vriska raises her eyebrows. "Who?"

"Nepeta!" he repeats. "She's a short cat-troll with claws and a bad haircut!"

"Cat-troll?" She frowns. "We have one of those, but she has long hair."

"Well, take us to her! Maybe she changed while she was out!" He makes a fist and readies his weapon.

She responds in a defensive pose, crossing her arms and puffing out her chest. "Doubtful. Our cat-troll hasn't left the ship in days."

"How do you know?" he says through gritted teeth.

"Because she's four sweeps old. Besides, she's been in the crow's nest for the past few days and refuses to come down for her fear of heights."

Dumbfounded, Karkat drops his jaw. He doesn't look like he's breathing, so Vriska punches him in the gut. He immediately doubles over with an unflattering yelp and she catches him by the collar to pull him back up.

"Any more questions?" she breathes into his face.

He grunts out a weak no.

"My turn again." She throws him to Eridan, who lets go of Feferi's hand. She saunters towards the highblood. "How did you get in again?"

"There's a secret entrance over there," she answers, pointing. Sure enough, there is a square of light, an obvious outline of a hidden door. She narrows her eyes at the new secret passage. She is going to have a little talk with the engineer if she ever sees her sorry face again.

"Thank you, Feferi. At least _someone_ has a little respect for authority around here." She shoots a look at Karkat, who glowers back.

"Well, is there any way we can look around for her?" she asks. "We'll leave as soon as we find her!"

"Not at this time of day you won't," Vriska counters. "The sun has risen and all of us need some sleep." She closes her eyes, cracking her neck. "I'm willing to let you stay until you find your comrade, but you have to leave the following sunset. I'm not willing to risk my ship and its crew for the greater good." She turns on her heel to leave.

"Thank you, Vriska! I mean, captain!" Feferi thanks her, saluting enthusiastically. "Come on, let's go!"

Vriska immediately about-faces. "Oh no you don't," she laughs, putting her arm out to them. "I like you, Feferi, but we just have no room for the three of you yet. You'll have to stay in the brig. I won't lock the cages or anything, though, so you're welcome."

"That's not fair!" Karkat shouts, apparently reenergized.

"Letting you stay without punishment is fair enough." Vriska pauses, thinking. "Although I do admit that it wasn't a good idea to not install recuperacoons in here. Or was it? See you later!" She smiles innocently.

"You bit—!" Karkat lunges, weapon drawn.

"Hey, who's the captain here?!" Vriska yells, easily dodging his curved weapon and knocking it out of his hand. She snatches his arm and shoves him forward, pulling his arm back. He screams in pain as she pushes him to the ground. "Not you, me! Captain Mindfang Spinneret! You will address me as 'captain' or 'Captain Mindfang Spinneret'!"

She stands up, letting him go, and he scrambles for his weapon again. He won't attack her now that she has established her superiority.

"And since I'm such a reasonable pirate, I'll leave the torch on." She opens the door and steps out, but not before she adds, "Oh, and watch out for Gamzee, he's around here somewhere! Toodles!" She slams the door shut and padlocks it.

"Good morning, captain!" an annoying voice rings. "I hope you aren't treating the prisoners too terribly. It must be frustrating to not be without their slime for so long."

Vriska bends down to the smallish troll's level, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Aranea, I need you to do me a favor. There's a cat-troll on this ship who isn't Meulin. Have you seen her?"

"Well, yes!" she chirps. "I saw Cronus carrying a fishing rod being chased by a cat-troll in a blue hat and claws. She had on the strangest outfit! It looked like it had been in some skirmishes with ferocious beasts! Poor Cronus was scared for his life, though. He kept saying, 'Go av-way, this is my fish!' and then she pounced on him. I ran away before she could rip it from him."

Vriska face-palmed. That moron was out fishing _again?_ "Lead me to them."

"Aye, aye!"

* * *

Sollux Captor  
Age: 8 ½ sweeps  
Occupation: Hacker  
Blood Caste: Mustard  
Legacy: a thilly lithp!aa 2top thatThe One Who Actually Saves The Day

Aradia Megido  
Age: 8 sweeps  
Occupation: Clock maker  
Blood Caste: Rust  
Legacy: Collateral Damage

"Hey, AA, have you stheen TV?" Sollux asks Aradia as he approaches her kiosk. She sells the best time-keepers in their small port town, and repairs the clock tower on the side. Her kiosk is right by the docks, so she can get more business to trolls passing through. She doesn't get much business since her caste is so low, but that's completely fine with her. She gets to live in the clock tower with her matesprit, even though it gets noisy from time to time.

"Not since last week, no," she answers worriedly. She hasn't seen her moirail in quite some time. He's been traveling around on his new flying contraption for whatever reason. He usually has the courtesy to send a message over Trollian, but he hasn't signed on in days.

"Well, it's almoth thunrise, stho we need to get back to our hive," Sollux says, his eyes darting back and forth. He leans in to whisper, "Code red."

She tries not to look fearful, but she does hitch her breath. She nods once in confirmation, closing her eyes. She plasters a smile on her face and gives him a peck on the cheek.

They work together to close down the kiosk, pulling the curtains over the counters and tying them down with rope. Lastly, they shorten the poles and take down the banner that reads "From Ruins to Wonders" on it. The whole premise of her business was to raid ruins, fix up the antiques, and sell them for profit. Sometimes they would go together, but most of the time, Aradia would go by herself. She liked it that way.

They walk hand-in-hand to their hive, which is in the center of town, maybe five minutes on foot. Their conversation would fool anyone into thinking it was lively, even though it's anything but.

"I grabbed a copy of Troll New England News while I wath out today," he says, smiling.

She giggles. "Oh no, what happened?"

"Two trollth were hanged for treathson againth the Empreth." He's losing his face.

Aradia smiles and nudges him, bopping him on the nose with her fingertip.

Sollux forces out a smile and nudges back. "One wasth two nights ago, and it wath TZ."

Aradia gasps dramatically, finding it difficult to force a smile herself. Terezi was a childhood friend and Aradia's confidant. It took her everything she had to ask Terezi's permission to date her moirail, and when she gave the blessing, she even helped organize their first date. Aradia owes her a lot, and now she won't be able to repay her.

Sollux grips her hand tightly. "I should have known it wasn't a good idea for her to be tho far away, I just knew it!" He forces a smile and continues. "Then lasth night, TV wath shot down and histh dithability was dithcovered. One thing led to another and he got himself arethted." He sighs dreamily, gazing up at the approaching tower. "They questioned him for hourth before threatening to push him into the thun if he didn't tell them where the weaponth were being manufactured."

Aradia leans against his shoulder as they walk, also staring up at the tower. "The news loves its corruption, huh?"

"No joke there."

"What did he say?"

"The newth said it was thomewhere in Troll Canada, but they weren't specific."

She sighs with relief, putting a hand on her chest. "Thank god." Tavros was smart enough to send the subjugglators in the opposite direction. She felt the tears well up in her eyes, but had to resist wiping them until they were out of sight.

"But you do know what this meansth, right?"

"I don't…"

"It meansth we have to run."

Finally, they get to the side door of the tower. He takes out his key and opens the passage leading into a dark tunnel. He leads her down first and then himself, locking the door securely behind them. They rush to their abode and don't even bother turning on any lights.

In a matter of seconds, their facades are broken down and they mourn for their moirails. They collapse into each other's arms, bending at the knees until they lose their balance and crumble to the ground. Neither could care less if the other seemed out of character for such extreme emotions. Their sadness was quickly resolving to hatred, and the raw desire to kill whoever was responsible.

"We h-have to warn Vriska," Aradia stammers through sobs. "Sh-she's Tavros' mates-s-sprit."

"Oh god, not that bitch," Sollux scoffs. He inhales through his snout and lets it out his mouth. "But you're right." He struggles to stand up, lifting her up. "We need to pool our earningth and the motht valuable thingth we own."

She nods in agreement. "I'll get started upstairs, in the treasure room."

"Meet me downstairth in twenty. I have justh the technology to get uth out of here."


	5. 4 minutes, 13 seconds

Gamzee MOTHERFUCKING Makara  
Age: 10 sWeEpS  
Occupation: FoRmEr sUbJuGgLaToR  
Blood Caste: purple  
Legacy: MIRACLES

The best thing about being in the dark? COMPLETE DARKNESS. There's no one between a troll and their thoughts.

Some rude brothers woke him up from his nap. The torch is on, too. He'd been on the ship for so long, he'd lost track of the days and nights. How long had it been since he was even fed or saw a drop of slime? No matter. Nothing matters anymore.

They're all going to die.

Wait a sec.

One of them is very familiar. Is that his on-again-off-again moirail?

"What the ever-loving fuck is Gamzee doing aboard?" Karkat wondered aloud. Gamzee smiled to himself and walked to the bars separating them. He wraps his fingers around the bars next to his face.

"Well if it ain't my on-again-off-again moirail," he chuckles. "How you motherfuckin' been?"

Karkat didn't hesitate to shove the other troll aside (Eridan? Such nostalgia.) and storm over to the bars.

"I didn't know you missed me that mu—" Karkat snatches his collar and punches him through the bars.

"Karkat, stop!" Feferi pleads. Aw, how sweet.

"Listen here, you son of a shit-eating grubhole!" he shouts in Gamzee's face. "I know we haven't been very consistent with each other, and I know that our jobs separate our values, but that doesn't give you the right to obey the simplest laws our shitty culture!"

"What are you talking about, bro?"

"Not what; _she!_"

Gamzee blinks.

"Terezi!" Karkat yells, yanking Gamzee's head against the bars.

"Motherfuck," Gamzee mutters, reaching up to the throbbing lump on his forehead. It's wet with blood. Not again.

"I know you're in that militaristic religious cult now, and that's your choice, but don't get Terezi involved!" There are tears in his eyes.

"Speaking of that red-eyed beauty, where is she?" Gamzee asks, looking over at the other two trolls.

"How dare you!" Karkat shakes him. "You killed her, you sack of shit! Your stupid smile face was carved onto hers! You left her hanging unceremoniously in the ruins of our hive!" He's going to get throat-sickness if he shouts any more.

Gamzee chuckles again. "Nah, I can't kill her. She'd kill me. Besides, I—"

"DON'T LIE TO MY FACE!"

"Karkat, I think he's tellin' the truth," Eridan interrupts, putting a hand on Karkat's shoulder. "He has that weird look in his eye."

"Why don't you mind your own business, _Eridan?!_ This is between me and him!"

"Why don't you get out of my face, Karkat?" Gamzee snarls. "I HAVEN'T LEFT THIS BOAT IN A WEEK!" he shouts. He then whispers, "And I'd surely remember killing off my own quadrants."

Karkat quints.

Gamzee glares back.

Karkat lets him go and goes to an empty cell. He slams the door shut with a loud clang and sits in the corner, facing away from the rest.

"Gamzee, what _are_ you doing here?" Feferi asks calmly, approaching the cage. He looks up to see her smiling. So motherfucking sweet. "On Vriska's ship, I mean."

"It's a long motherfucking story, sis," he replies normally. He takes a deep breath and sits where he stood. Feferi does the same, mirroring him. She motions Eridan to sit next to her wordlessly.

"We have time," she says, smiling.

He shifts his eyes from side to side. The motion was useless. There were no windows, but no one knows who is lurking. "It all started a month ago…" A necessary flashback.

* * *

Gamzee wandered through the halls of his past. All the doors were the same as his subjuggulator training days, but the tiles on the floor changed from beige to green. Someone wasn't doing their job, which was mopping up the kills.

He was the top of the class when he graduated. He had the best teacher. Her name was Helter Sketor, but all the others called her "The Professor". Even though she was a caste lower that him, she taught him things he never will ever forget. He climbed the ladder until he was right below her level before she was transferred to the purple moon to help commence and build new conquests on the inhabitants there. But she gave him a key to her secret chamber to a secret lab of secrets. She told him that she trusted him with this new information and that he was going to keep the fact that he knew a secret until he reached her level.

Of course, what troll wouldn't be interested in that? Maybe it had the secret ingredient in slime. Nobody knew what was in it, but it was damn motherfucking delish.

He approached the secret chamber to the secret lab of secrets, twirling the key on its tiny chain. He opened the door. He entered the secret lab of secrets. He frowned. It wasn't a lab, it was just a megacomputer. He shrugged and sat on the chair provided.

"Now let's see what the big secrets are," he wondered aloud. He put on the headphones and clicked the button that said, "ALL the secrets".

The screen flashed blue and red for a few seconds. Gamzee blinked, mesmerized. Then all at once, images started to appear. Handcuffs that looked like Karbro's sign. Rust. Orange. Mustard. Lime. Olive. Jade. Teal. Cerulean. Indigo. Purple. Violet. Fuchsia. Then all of them connected in a circle. An animation broke the circle between rust and fuchsia and turned it into a vertical line, fuchsia being at the top and rust at the bottom.

The history continued on for generations. All of the dirty secrets of society were being revealed in the span of a few seconds. The flow of images slowed to around 35 solar sweeps ago. The empress' farewell voyage. It was taught that she went to explore a planet that was discovered in a faraway solar system that was said to have life, but didn't, so she had returned. But the images showed different. It showed panic among the seadwellers, then an eerie calm. It showed propaganda that the empress was gone forever, never to return. Gl'bgolyb had chosen many new wards, and it showed their faces one-by-one, the last being Feferi.

Where was the empress? Gamzee wanted to figure it out, explore more, but additional information clouded his mind.

The Grand Highblood of old returned, only to take the place on the throne of the empress where she sat when she felt like coming on land to cull here, rule there, etc. He declared many things. He created secret police factions. One of those factions being Gamzee's current job.

One thing was clear in this subliminal overload, and that was there is no empress, and the subjuggulators rule.

Finally, the video came to a close at the last legislation written before the highblood was replaced: Every troll that is branded a traitor will be executed, as well as their immediate quadrants. He slammed his club down against the keyboard, smashing it to bits in one blow. The computer shut itself down.

* * *

"But what about you?" Feferi asks. "Aren't you in Terezi's immediate quadrant? Why weren't you killed?"

"I wasn't the reason she died," Gamzee says, looking down. "It's Karkat."

"What the fuck?!" Karkat responds, twisting around from his spot. He hadn't moved since Gamzee was telling the story.

"Let him finish!" Feferi says.

"It was Karkat who was branded the traitor," Gamzee reiterates. "And you, Eridan. And you Feferi. All of you. Your campaign worked, but in all the wrong spaces. I was safe for a bit. But now I'm not."

"Why not?"

"Because I know all their muthafuckin' secrets!" He points to his thinkpan. "It's ready to explode up in here! I'm not at the right clearance to be knowing this biz. The computer I broke sent a message to the big ones and they came after me. I've just been running, that's all." He smiles, finished with his story.

"I fucking _knew it!_" Karkat yells, kicking at a bar. He recoils with a yelp of pain and curls on the ground.

"These bars were made for lusii," Gamzee sings, referencing an old musical tune. It had been used lots of times, but he was referencing the one about footwear.

"Do you think…?" Eridan asks.

"Of course!" Karkat intercedes, still writing in pain. "If it weren't for that damn book of my ancestor's, none of this bullshit would have happened! I should have burned it when I had the chance!"

Feferi swallows uncomfortably. "I have a confession to make," she whispers. She draws her legs under her chin. "I owe Vriska an apology, too."

"Why? You just got here!"

"It's more than that." She glances at Eridan, who cocks his head in response.

She takes a deep breath, but is interrupted by Vriska barging in, Nepeta dragging behind.

"I found your companion," she says. "As soon as the sun goes down, leave."

"Vriska, do you have a minute?" Feferi asks.

"Sure, why not?" She sits next to Feferi on the floor.

"It's not a good minute." She fiddle with her tattered shirt. "It's about Tavros."

Gamzee looks at Vriska's scrunching eyebrows. This is going to be muthafuckin' _good._

Vriska couldn't believe her ears.

Feferi and…

Tavros?

Together?

As in….. matesprits?

It all made sense now.

"I'm going ashore, Vriska."

"I'm taking all my stuff."

"Please don't miss me. I need to go."

"I don't like being a pirate."

But what about all the times they spent together? And if he didn't want to be a pirate, why didn't he just say so? He could have a been a deck swabbie or something!

Of course, Eridan is beside himself. How come he didn't know about this, When did it start, Did you two actually do the thing, bluh, bluh, bluh. Their noise fades away as Vriska retreats into her thoughts.

* * *

Wait a bulge-licking minute… When was Feferi going to tell Karkat about this?! It certainly would have helped if her knew that she had a matesprit who was his friend! Not to mention it would have helped her campaign. Some things can't be helped.

His main concern is that since she never even mentioned it to her moirail, then she never officially registered their relationship through the proper channels. And judging by Vriska's reaction, rather a lack of one, he never really broke it off officially, either. Karkat almost wants to go pap Vriska's face or something, since it's so out of character for her to act like this, but he refuses to give in to being a cheap pale whore. He harrumphs and crosses his arms instead.

"I smell honey," Nepeta pipes up. Holy shit, he forgot she was even there. "I don't like honey. It makes my fur all sticky." She rubs her paw—HAND along her arm, probably reminiscing.

"I don't smell anyfin," Eridan says. "That's also really random, weird cat girl."

"My name is Nepeta! And I do smell it! A lot of it! Like an explosion of it!" She sniffs the air. "It's outside."

"Vriska, I think we need to check this out," Karkat says, putting a hand on Vriska's shoulder. No reaction. He shakes it.

"What?!" she yells.

"Is there any way to look outside to see what's going on?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nepeta smells honey. A lot of it."

She shoots a confused look at the cat-troll. "Honey? What are you… Hang on." She stands up quickly and rushes out, leaving the door ajar. The rest, save Gamzee, follow her.

They follow her up to the next level, where there is one porthole, and she's looking through a telescope. The sun shines through the circular window, leaving a crescent shape on the floor.

"Damn it, Sollux, why now?" Vriska mutters under her breath. "Today just sucks." She turns away, retracting the device. She heads straight for what looks like the sleeping quarters for the crew and violently rings a bell mounted next to the entryway. "Rise and shine, fuckers! We gotta bounce!"

Suddenly, the door swings open and slams against the wall, and a bunch of _very_ young trolls swarm out of it. Are they her crew? They all look the same age. If Karkat hadn't seen this in movies, he would have been very disturbed indeed. Legally, at the age of five sweeps, a troll can start earning their own money, but this is clearly grubnapping. No wonder Vriska is so assertive, she has damn _children_ running her ship!

"Vriska, what's all the commotion?" yawns a green-clad troll. She looks like she just woke up, but she still retains a pulchritudinous air. Karkat knows her from someplace, but can't put his finger on exactly where.

"Oh good, you're up," Vriska says, approaching her. "Sollux is joining us soon. He's going to have to explain why he blew up his hive in broad daylight, though."

The mysterious troll raises an eyebrow. "Why do you suddenly care for him now?"

"We made a deal. Well, I made a deal and he just kind of… agreed to it."

"Seriously?" She sighs. "Fine, I'll lower the bridge for him."

"Good!" Vriska charges back down to the brig and the other troll goes up. Meanwhile, the crew dodges the adult trolls and go every-which-way, most likely to their posts.

"Sis, where are you taking me?" Karkat turns to see Gamzee being dragged up the stairs.

"I'm putting you to work!" She grabs Karkat as well. "You, too, Krabby-Panties!"

"Fuck no! I'm not going anywhere near the top deck! I'll burn to a crisp!"

"No you won't, We've got a sun-block!" She snickers. "It's really epic, you'll see!"

Karkat struggles until they get to the top of the stairs, right below the doors to the top deck. He didn't imagine going out like this. He fantasized about dying in battle plenty of times before all this bullshit happened, but now he hasn't imagined it at all, simply because he had tasks to accomplish first.

Vriska lets go of Gamzee and bangs her fist at a wooden panel. It opens to reveal an eye scanner. It scans her eye and approves access. A large button opens up below the panel. She pushes it.

The ship rumbles and shakes, causing Karkat and Gamzee to lose their balance. Vriska is steady as a rock. Finally, it stops and she opens both door simultaneously. Instead of bright sunlight, there is a shaded octagon dome covering the top of the ship. It's still hot, but it doesn't burn Karkat's skin on contact like it usually does. He could probably take a few hours of this.

"Kanaya, do you see him?" Vriska calls. So her name is Kanaya.

"Aye, captain!" she replies. "There is a large, slow-moving wave of mind honey flooding the town, and it will engulf it in approximately two hours. And he has Aradia with him."

"Are you sure?"

"I recognize her flowing locks even at this distance." Karkat has no idea who these people are.

"The bridge is lowered?"

"Yes, captain."

"Good. Let them both aboard when they arrive." She drags the male trolls to the wheel. "Karkat, you will be my navigator."

"Now wait just a godda—"

"Gamzee, go get the other cat-troll from the crow's nest. The only other troll she'll listen to has other business to take attend to, and you kind of look like him, so she should listen to you. It's mutiny to let her disobey orders when the time finally calls for it. I need all the hands I can get." She takes hold of the wheel as he scrambles up the mast without a word.

"I didn't ask for this!"

"Me neither! But you might as well make yourself useful while you're still alive."

"I still don't—"

"Captain!" Kanaya shouts from the edge of the ship. "We have a problem!"

"What is it now?!" she yells.

"Subjuggulators! Nearly a hundred of them just outside of town."

"Captain!" an entirely different voice calls from above. Both Karkat and Vriska look up to see Gamzee carrying a tiny, long-haired Nepeta in a skirt pointing out to the water. "Subjuggl'tors!" They follow her pointing, and sure enough, ships embarking the purple sign of the Grand Highblood approaches. Strangely enough, it's the same sign as Gamzee's sign. He vaguely wonders if there's a relation. They need to get out of here, fast.

"We may need to make a choice," Kanaya says fervently. She motions to Sollux and Aradia or whoever.

"No choice! We wait!" Vriska barks. "Sollux is an ass, but as you said, we need everyone to make the thing work, right?"

Kanaya doesn't respond. Karkat squints his eyes. What are they planning?

Finally, the bridge is lowered and two trolls phase right through the barrier. They're both wearing heavy protective gear, and one has a copious amount of fluffy hair sticking out of the back. They both collapse on their hands and knees on the deck while Kanaya brings the bridge back up.

"Sollux, engage!" Vriska yells. Immediately, Sollux rips off his headgear and red and blue sparks fly from his eyes. In no time at all, the entire ship is engulfed in red and blue lightning, lifting it out of the water. "Everyone else, hang on to whatever's handy! The honey will only slow down half of our enemies! Karkat!"

"What?!"

"You're my navigator, tell me where to go!"

Without thinking, he shouts, "Up!"

"Up it is, then!" She turns the wheel towards the town. "Sollux, go!"

Sollux complies, but not without strained cries. Karkat struggles to hang on to much of anything besides the railings around the main mast.

Vriska grips the wheel tightly. "Horuss, hide the ship! Mituna, get your ass up here and assist Sollux! Latula, guard our helmsmen!" Can they even hear her from up here with all this noise? "Let's get off this damn planet once and for all!"

Wait, WHAT?!


	6. I1A1: mroe than a feeling (more)

"She's the worst, am I right or am I right?" she exclaims, slamming her drink down with a loud thunk. The action made the swill splatter on the counter. All of the sudden, she could give no more shits on who heard.

"Ms. Lalonde, you are drunk," Dirk comments, sipping a Coke Zero. What a pansy. She invited him out to drink from one co-worker to another, and so far… ZILCH in the fun department. She isn't sure what annoys her more: his drink of choice at a _bar_, of the fact the he never _talks!_

"Not as drunk as you're gonna be!" she retorts. "You! Barkeep! Yeah, you! Gimme one o' your original concoctions for my uptight buddy here!" She slaps his back hard, making him spit up his carbonated swill.

"No thanks, I really—" She shoots him a dirty look. "Alright, but none of that Scottish shit. I hate that stuff. Orange flavor would be a plus."

"You got it," the stereotypical bartender (the ugly kind, not the hot kind) replied. "An original Crusher comin' right up."

"So, what brings you to the Crocker Corps., young man?" she asks as the bartender places the cold glass on the counter.

"I need to work," he shrugs. "Being a rapper ain't all it's cracked up to be. A packer of boxes at a factory making sugary shit is better than being homeless."

"Hear, hear!" she toasts.

"What about you?"

"I'm a respected scientist!" she says proudly, downing the rest of her drink.

"Obviously," he says, taking another sip. She can tell he actually likes it.

"Any girl in your life?"

"Every girl I've dated makes me want to play for the other team."

"So, you're a homosezual, huh? Don't worry, I won't say a thing!"

"Hm."

The conversation died a little after that. She had run out of drink, as well as things to ask. She orders another strawberry martini.

"So Miss Lalonde, what about you? I don't even know your first name."

"Oh snap! How rude of me!" she gasped. "The name's Roxy, like in that one musical." She clears her throat and sings, "Roxyyyy!"

"No shit? It sure is unique."

"Yeah," she said nervously. Maybe it was the alcohol, but the semi-compliment made her happy. For her, it's a turnoff when a man hints they're gay, so she backs off in the flirting department. But this man…

"Forgive my rudeness, but you're a lot older than me, and I admit I'm curious…" He shrugs.

"Nope, I'm proud to display my age!" she exclaims, finally getting her drink. "People say I look younger than I am, when I'm actually the big three-oh!" She takes a sip and smacks her lips daintily.

"Are you sure? You look more like my age, the big two-four."

"Well fuck, that's unfortunate. I'm not into minors." She sipped a bit more. Is this glass halfway gone already?

He busts out laughing. "You said that with such a straight face!" Oh man, he's already hammered and he's only drunken two beers.

Roxy laughs, too. First, she's louder, then he laughs louder, then he does, then she. The bartender gives them a stern look, and they laugh at him, too. That fuckin' mustache! Bushy as fuck! Soon after, they are escorted out, keys confiscated.

Roxy wipes tears from her eyes. "That was the craziest mustache. Ever!" She sighed and looked to Dirk. She waggled her eyebrows. "Ya wanna go somewhere else?"

"They took m'wallet."

"Damn it! No keys, no wallet—"

"I still have my keys. I just live across the street."

"Whaaaaaat? No way."

"Hey, if you didn't want to come over, you could just say so."

"Step aside!" she says, shoving him gently, and heads in the general direction of an apartment building.

"I thought you weren't into minors. And, that's the wrong way."

"Shut up! You, I'd bang _any day_."

"Whoa doctor, is that an order? Or an invitation? Or… fuck, how does that go?" He's so cute.

"You're the one that invited me t'yur house!"

"I think I might need another drink to put up with your grammar."

"How's about you just shut me up instead?" Shit, was that too much? She swiftly puts her hands on his face and kisses him sloppily. They battle it out until another drunk patron yells for them to get a room. She totes forgot they hadn't moved much from the bar. "Not bad for a kid."

"I could say the same, grandma."

"You wanna go, son?"

"Let's go then, old lady!"

"Yeah? Well, let's see who, whuh uh… fuggit I got nuthin'."

* * *

The next morning is muggier than usual. Usually he slept with the windows open because the nights here were so cool this time of year. But this morning, it was _hot_. He opens his eyes slowly to assess the situation.

The sun is bright. It can't be later than ten. He wipes the sweat off the back of his neck and forehead. He needs a haircut. He'll do it tomorrow on his day off. He hates it when his hair is long enough to stick.

"It's Saturday," he mumbles. "When do I work again?" He sits up. Aside from a pounding headache, he doesn't feel all that terrible. And for some reason, he's naked, with dry white stuff between his legs. He must have been tugging it in his sleep aga—

Oh, no.

He promised himself he would practice abstinence until he found someone—anyone—but clearly alcohol jeopardizes his values. So much for that. He puts drinking on his list of "Things to never do again".

"Where did she even go?"

He pulls off the covers and swings his legs over the side of the bed one-by-one. His foot grazes something soft. He looks down.

"Oh, mother fuck."

The accomplished Dr. Roxy Lalonde is passed out on his floor, naked as the day she was born. Not to mention there is fresh vomit on his carpet. She must have tripped on her way to the bathroom. Now, aside from the dry puke trickling from her mouth, she's a pretty hot thirty-something.

"Mrrreghh," she groans. She slides her arm around on the carpet until she finds her forehead. She mumbles, "My house doesn't have carpet…" Her eyes snap open. "MY HOUSE DOESN'T HAVE CARPET!" Dirk flinches at the sudden yelling.

She scrambles up, gathering her bearings. One look at the puke and she gags. He can't help but chuckle, despite the mistakes that got them there in the first place.

She jumped at the sound of his voice. "Oh, my fuck!" she gasps. She just realized what happened. Slowly, his memories start to return as well. She puts a hand over her mouth and turns a bright red.

"What, you've never had a one-night stand before?" he asks.

She shakes her head, mouth still covered.

"Well, don't worry about it, they're always this awkward. Took me a while to get over it, and that's when I was dead sober." He thought it would make him look like a jerk if he asked if she was taking birth control, so he kept his trap shut.

"Okay," she responds, covering herself.

He offers his blanket and she takes it nervously. She wraps it around herself, still flushed.

"Thank you," she mumbles, looking down. "I'm sorry. Sometimes when I drink, I get a little weird in the head. I'm actually surprised I've never had a one-night-stand before!" She laughs and then falls silent. She must be scared out of her mind.

* * *

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!

"Tell you what, let me take a shower first, because the pipes here are shit and it takes a while to warm up." His calm voice penetrates Roxy's inner freakout. Oh god, she just used the word "penetrate". "And then while you shower, I'll head down to the bar and pick up your keys, is that okay?"

"Okay," she agrees. She completely forgot about her keys. She needs a drink to get over this mess. No she doesn't, she needs to sober up and CALM THE FUCK DOWN.

"No peeking!" he jests, taking the bedsheet and wrapping himself. What a waste, he is a very sexy man. No Roxy, stop staring at him! This isn't the first time she's seen a naked man.

He steps into the bathroom, sheet and all.

As soon as she hears the water running, she scrambles to her feet. She tosses the blanket back on the bed and starts to look for her clothes. She finds her favorite white button-up work shirt with the three-quarter sleeves and threw it on, but not before she found her bra on the…ceiling fan? She finds her matching knee-length pencil skirt in the corner and puts that on as well. She scans the area, making sure she got everything: purse, clothes, and black heels, and the keys are at the bar. Good.

She races to the door and closes it quietly. She takes off down the stairs, not even waiting for a man with an armload of groceries coming through the door.

She darts across the street to the bar to demand her keys back, and gets them back without argument, most likely because of her disheveled appearance. She thanks them and goes right back out.

It's a good thing she has the day off today, or else she'd be fu—

"Nevermind I'll find someone liiike yoooouuuu-hoooooo!" her phone sang. Shit, it's the boss. The big CEO man. Why is _he_ calling her? Doesn't he have an assistant? Secretary? His _wife?_

"Dr. Lalonde, I need you to come in today," the man orders in a gruff voice.

"Mr. English, I thought you gave me the weekend," she responds. She glances around for a pharmacy. The old fart hates excuses, but maybe she can negotiate just one additional hour so she can pick up some of that "Plan C" stuff or something.

"May I remind you that there are hundreds of scientists of your caliber and expertise in this city."

"Yes, I understand that, sir." She finds one and starts powerwalking. It's about eleven in the morning now, and people are starting to crowd the streets.

"So you understand that if you are not here in exactly one hour, you will be out of a job?"

"Yes sir, but I might be a little late. I've never been late before, plus I have a mentee now, and—"

"If you are even fifteen minutes over the time I have just told you, YOU'LL NEVER WORK IN THIS COUNTRY AGAIN!" Roxy had to hold her phone away from her ear. She's giving up on the pharmacy for now, and hails a taxi instead. "AND MARK MY WORDS, I WILL TRANSFER YOU TO THE CONGO."

She gulps. She's only heard stories about that place.

"THE CLOCK IS TICKING, AND SO HELP ME, YOU WILL BE PACKING YOUR BAGS TONIGHT IF THIS INSUBORDINATION CONTINUES!"

"But I just need—" The taxi pulls up.

"I'M ALREADY HERE! DON'T KEEP ME WAITING!" He hangs up. She puts her oversized prototype cellular phone in her purse. They are a necessary evil in her line of work, she concludes.

"Where to, miss?" the driver asks. He meets her eyes in the rear-view mirror. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Take me to the Crocker Headquarters in less than forty-five minutes. I'll pay you double."

"This ride's on me, ma'am." He tips his hat on this cloudy day. "No need for any more stress."

"Thank you so much," she whimpers.

She would cover up the fact that she wore the same clothes the day before by changing into her lab coat in the employee locker room.

When they approach the building, she will direct him to the employee entrance through the back. For now, she will have to think about how to go about solving her new problem.

Memories of last night had only been trickling in before, but now that she was relaxed in a taxi, the floodgates opened. There were things she did with Dirk last night that made her blush even thinking about it. How did they do that? Did all those things really come out of her mouth? Was that position even possible? Oh god, she actually did that. Oh no, he's hot…

She shakes her head violently, covering her mouth worriedly, staring out the window, trying and failing to just space out already.

* * *

Dirk steps outside of the shower not ten minutes after he got in. The water finally got hot as he rinsed off, so Roxy should have no problems with it getting cold while she does her girly things or whatever girls do in the shower.

"So Roxy, the shower's all yours!" he calls from the bathroom. He rubbed a towel on his head quickly, drying his hair. Yep, he definitely needs a trim.

He didn't hear an answer, so he wrapped another towel around his waist, draping the one he dried his hair with over his shoulders.

"Roxy, I said—" He cut himself off. She's gone. A quick glance around the one-room apartment told him that much.

It was the "why" that bothered him. It happened so often in the past that he wondered why he should even care anymore. Many reasons came to mind, but none of the typical ones seemed to fit her personality.

As per usual, he went through a series of questions that tried to separate her from every other person he'd slept with. Was it because she was older? No, his first girlfriend was two years older than he was. She had a better job? No, he had a one-nighter with a businessman once. That one was awkward. Because she was gorgeous? No, he dated a model for about a week last year, but she was already in a committed relationship with her mirror.

Memories from the night before came all at once. _Oh._ He swallowed uncomfortably. He looked down to see the towel slightly tenting.

"Gh—" he sighed. "Damn it."

* * *

Roxy pays the kind driver with tips. She turns and runs to the building, since her life now depended on it. She speeds past the greeter and zooms to the employee locker room door.

"Oh good, you're here early!" an airy voice chips. The boss's wife, Betty Crocker, is the perfect woman: tall, thin, meek, never raises her voice, wearing dresses and tying her massive hair into a heavy-looking bun, and not to mention the brain behind the recipes. But the scientists in Roxy's division knew that when it came to those recipes, she was obsessive and unforgiving. Mr. English himself is the businessman, and a terrible people-person. When they were together, there was a certain atmosphere that was not loving at all, even when they showed public affection.

"I was just about to change," Roxy says, pointing her index finger at the door. "Lab coats and all, hahaha!" She may or may not have jeopardized her job by sleeping with a coworker.

"Don't worry, this is an unofficial meeting! It'll be just the three of us," Mrs. Crocker reassures her, taking her hand and winking.

"Are you sure? I mean..."

"You will be fine," she annunciates with a sweet smile.

Roxy gulps and obeys.

The woman is at least a foot-and-a-half taller than Roxy is, and just following makes her feel like a child about to be lectured at. But she'll be fine, she'll be okay. She hopes.

Finally, they are standing outside the conference room door, made of glass walls and brightly lit with natural morning light. Roxy can see the boss sitting inside like a big hulking bald statue in a suit that stares and gives everyone the willies.

Roxy takes a deep breath as she is led in by Mrs. Crocker.

"Sit." She sits. "Good morning Dr. Lalonde."

"Good morning, sir," she answers.

"How long have you been with us?"

"About five years I think?"

"It is my understanding that you were hired out of graduate school, after you got your degree."

"Yes, sir. I studied the advancement of sugar enzymes and proteins and their effects in the bloodstreams of cats, dogs, and other domesticated pets. I made some breakthroughs in cats, and determined that certain food colorings changed their DNA to a point of mutation." One of them had gotten pregnant and had an entire litter of mutated kittens. Only one survived, which she kept and named "Mutie", short for "mutant". She thought it was rather endearing, since he's a such strong and energetic kitty.

"I don't care. Betty, stand where I can't see you."

"Yes, dear," she replies. She was standing behind Roxy the entire time. She moves behind the large man, giving him a dirty look. She leans on one leg, puts a hand on her hip, and cocks her head to the side, dropping her overall good-wife façade. Her heels click into place.

"You have impressed us here at the top, Miss Lalonde, and we have decided to promote you to lead scientist in all the divisions," he says loudly, grabbing her wandered attention again.

Roxy is utterly speechless. A promotion? She can't help but smile. All of her hard work has finally paid off!

"In order to properly initiate you into our board of directors, we have prepared a video. Betty!" he bellows. She flinches. "Draw the curtains!"

She doesn't respond and obeys. She lowers the screen at the front of the room and pushes a VHS into the VCR.

It starts out okay with the usual promotional BS, but then it starts flashing red and getting weird, so Roxy averts her eyes for a few seconds. When she opens them again, Betty Crocker is raising a large trident above her head with both hands, aimed at Mr. English's head, and plunges it right into his skull.

Roxy screams.

* * *

Waiting for the bus sucks. Dirk Strider would rather be leaping from roof to roof, honing his skills. He's been so tired from his day job that his freestyle has taken a big hit. Work to support rapping career, rapping career suffers because of work. Sure, packing and moving heavy boxes filled with sugary junk all day is good pay and builds muscle, but it's utterly exhausting.

The last time he traveled by rooftop, he was accused of knocking over a satellite dish on some ritzy penthouse and had to pay them back out of pocket. Man, rich people have some good lawyers. In any case, he's now stuck on the bus by court order.

The bus finally arrives. He greets the usual bus driver, pays his usual fee, and sits in his usual seat. His mind wanders to last night's strange turn of events, and the unusual circumstances that led up to them. It was honestly the best time he'd had in a long time. That is, until the graphic images come back again. Did they even use a condom? He doesn't keep them around since he gave up sex, but maybe she had one. Or maybe she's on birth control anyway, so there's no need to worry, Dirk, he tells himself.

Roxy Lalonde was a cool chick, he thought. She shared his interests and secretly bashed the boss, and would probably make a good drinking buddy if he drank more.

* * *

Roxy couldn't believe her eyes. Even after he had been stabbed through the head, he had put up a fight. His wife easily overtook him and threw him to the ground, stabbing him some more through the chest, abdomen, and face until he stopped moving altogether. Roxy had stopped screaming and gone into hyperventilation mode.

"I've been waitin' 50 years to do that," she mutters in a drawl. "It's finally over." She grows a sinister grin and eerily looks in Roxy's direction. "Subliminal video didn't work, eh? Oh well, that's for mainly the saps at the lower levels anyway." She stands up with a grunt, using her weapon as support. She is covered in deep red blood, but Roxy could hardly tell because of her already-red dress. Her bun is a mess and her mascara is running. She wipes some blood from her cheek, and underneath the pale flesh-colored foundation is an ashen tint.

"D-don't come near me!" Roxy pleads. "I won't say anything, I promise!" She gulps audibly.

"Don't bother beggin' for your life. I won't krill you. Like they gonna believe you anyway."

"Th-then what...?"

She laughs to herself as she saunters towards Roxy, who had plastered herself on the back wall in the tussle. "What betta than to have you at my right fin?" She sneers and leans in close. Her blood-covered fifties-style dress seems to fit. "An' besides, what's a food company without a li'l science?"

* * *

It had been six months since Dirk shared a night with Roxy, three months since he saw her in person, and two months since he's had a decent conversation with her. It was beginning to worry and irritate him.

One unusually cold night in September, he got a phone call at one in the morning. Before he had the chance to yell at the person for calling so late, he heard crying.

"Roxy?" he asks. "Is that you?"

"I fucked up," she whimpers. "I fucked up ree bad, Dirg!"

He sighs, pressing his face against his pillow. He groans and asks, "Are you seriously drunk dialing me at one in the godda-"

"I cand do it anymore!" she cries.

"Whoa can't do what?" He sits up in bed and turns on the lamp on his headboard. "If you need help, just ask."

She pauses for a moment, sniffling some more. "Help me."

And that was that. He quickly puts on his usual black pants and white polo and takes off out his window.

It takes about 20 minutes for him to get to her address. She lives in a good-sized house in a safe neighborhood. He knocks on the wooden door.

It opens a crack. Roxy peeks out with swollen eyes and shaking hands. "Don't com'in," she mumbles. "I'm in my peejamas."

"You called me, remember?" he replies. "You said you needed help, and I'm going to help you. Now please let me in?"

She hides her face behind the door for a few seconds before opening it all the way and hiccuping. Ho-ly shit.

"Holy shit!" Dirk shouts. He stands and stares with his mouth hanging open.

"Too loud!" she whispers, dragging him inside by his wrist. She locks the door behind them, nearly dropping her half-empty bottle of pure vodka.

Dirk promptly removes the beverage from her grasp and flash-steps it to the kitchen sink, dumping it down the drain. He returns to the living room, where she sits with her face buried in both of her hands.

"I fugged up." She sniffs again. "I had a drink even though I knew." She reaches for a box of tissues, but it's empty. Once she figured it out, she throws it across the room and nearly hits her television. He joins her on the couch. "I know, I mean."

Dirk has no idea what to do with a crying pregnant woman who has been caught drinking. There's no point in asking if she's okay, so he just puts his arm around her shoulders. "Is this the first time this has happened? The drinking while pregnant thing, I mean."

She nods and leans onto him. "But duzzit mean I'm a bad person? Or a bad mother?"

"Roxy, you're a good person. You just made a mistake, that's all."

"Thiz iz a bad one, though! Do you know how many precawshins a woman has to take before having a child?! I can't dringor hangar round my friends who smoke or have certain foods even though I just wanna go outside and eat tree bark most nights, and sometimes with certain blood types and the womanzage, you have to _plan_ all this bullshit in advanced with shots an' tests an' to make sure the kid don't have a fukkin' disease or someshit... Are you laughin' at me?!"

Dirk didn't realize that he had been suppressing laughter since 'tree bark'. "No, go on."

"You just don't unnerstand! At this crucial part of the development stage, you hafta be really, REALLY careful!"

"Development? You look ready to blow." He suddenly feels awkward that they had slept together while she was already pregnant. She's huge, so she must have been, right? Not to mention how much they drank that night. Even if she didn't know, she must have figured it out by that time, right?

She squints up at him. "Dirge, this smay seem hard to believe, but I'm only six months preg'ant."

Wait. He blinks. Is she saying... "Are you saying...?"

Her face contorts again, tears streaming down. She wipes away her tears feverishly.

"Hey, hey, Rox, come on, don't cry. Here." He wraps his arms around her shoulders. "I got you. Just let it all out. I can always bleach this shirt."

She didn't hesitate, sobbing various words that sounded like "I fucked up" and "Now they'll be all brain damage or something" and-

"They?" he asks.

"Twins," she mutters. "The doctor says a boy and girl. He doesn't know if they're fratermal or whatever yet."

"No wonder." He cranes his neck to look at her belly. Now that he thinks of it, they _could_ be his. How can he ask, though? Someone told him a while back that one type of person you should never piss off is a pregnant woman.

"I bet yer wonderin' why I even called you," she said suddenly, beating him to the punch. "It was dumb, I was stupid. I was a dumb and I'm sorry, you could probs go home. I'll be find."

"I know I should have said this months ago, but..." He took a deep breath. She's waiting. "But you're the coolest chick I know. Literally every other woman I've met wanted to get in my pants and leave. Not you, though. I thought we hit it off as friends really well. Well, then we had that one-night stand, but then you showed me that you were willing to be friends again. It caught me by surprise and not much surprises me anymore."

Roxy lets out an awkward shudder-laugh-sniffle, turning the side of her head against his chest.

"But anyway, I think it's safe to say that we're probs best friend status right now," he says, smiling and ruffling her hair.

"Oh my gawd, stahhp!" she laughs.

"Haha, nope."

"Strider Dirk, you jerk!" She pushes him away playfully. "I got a full belly here!" She sighs dreamily and caresses said belly.

"Is it rude if I ask to touch it?" Shit, he just said that out loud, didn't he? He still wants to.

"Sure," she answers without hesitation. "They kick me when they're not kickin' each other, so I'm purty tough by now."

"They sound like quite the pair of fighters already." He sits closer, nervously hovering his hand over her.

"They sure are. They're not like me at all. And would you just do it? They're waiting to hear their father's voice, so you'd better thinka somethin' cool to say."

He draws his hand back and stares at her incredulously. She's been dropping hints all night but... "Whoa, hang on. Are you sure they're mine?"

"What kinda girl do you take me for?" she states quite loudly. "Of course they're yours, dumbass! It's not like I sleep witha buncha men or have time for a boyfriend with the kinda job I have! I mean, I have poster boyfriends but..."

"Sorry," he apologizes, putting a fist to his forehead and squeezing his eyes tight. Stupid, stupid question, Strider!

"It's fine, fine, you're fine. It's the first question ya gotta ask, I guess. Now hurry up and touch me. I'm either queasy from the drink, or baby-nauseous, or gonna throw up soon from both."

He complies. Gently, he places is hand in the center and made slow circles.

She giggles. "They're movin' in there alright. They know so'ms up. Go a little lower and you'll feel 'em."

Swallowing, Dirk shifts a little lower. Then he feels something weird and odd-shaped. She grunts slightly. He eyes the end of her purple sleeping dress and asks, "Do you mind?"

"Go for it. You've already seen the goods." She gives the okay with a half-assed wave.

He lifts it up and folds it neatly under her chest, which had swelled from flat to full in the last few months. Lo and behold where he had just put his hand, was the protrusion of what looks like a tinier hand. He takes her hand and directs her there.

"What's going on?"

"It's a tiny hand, Roxy," he whispers. "I wish you could see it, it's incredible."

She gasps when she feels it, then laughs lightly. "Wait," she says. "Maybe I can. I have an old Polaroid that does the picture thing. It's in the drawer under the TV. Get it, quick, before he stops!"

He quickly stands up, nearly tripping over the table and rushes to the unit. "He?"

"Or she, I dee kay."

"What?" he laughs, pulling it out and making sure there are prints inside.

"It means 'I don't know'. It's the future of communication, mark my words. Hurry, hurry!"

"I'm a terrible picture taker, so you'll have to forgive me if I miss it." He kneels on the ground.

"Just aim and press the button, and keep your fingers away from the lens. Oh shit, she's backing off, go go go!"

He snaps the picture and the flash goes off. Not more than a second later, the paper comes out. Giving the camera to Roxy, he mutters, "Good job, little man. Or girl. Whatever you are."

"Oh, it's presh!" She has tears in her eyes, but from joy this time, not from feeling sorry for herself.

Dirk joins her back on the couch and takes a look. "Hey, I'm not half bad of a photo grapher."

"It's photAHgrapher, you silly boy."

Then Dirk thinks of something. "What about your job? Aren't you on the board? What does our new CEO think about this?"

Roxy is silent. The mood has officially died. She starts to gag and covers her mouth.

"Go, I'll wait."

He helps her up and she powerwalks to the nearest bathroom. She closes the door. He follows her and waits outside the hallway.

When she comes back out, he asks if that was the trigger to her drinking.

"Well, not the job itself. It was really just my boss finding out. I nearly got fired today."

"Are you serious?! They can't do that!"

"They can and she has. I still have a job because I'm the only one who—" she stops herself.

"What? The only one who what?"

She looks to the side. "I'll tell you tomorrow."

"In that case, I'll stay here tonight. Camp out on the couch." She opens her mouth to protest, but he cuts her off. "I insist."

She pouts and leads him to the linen closet to get out a clean quilt.

For the next week, they meet at her home, buying things for the unborn children. Roxy makes more than enough money for the both of them, so it would be no problem at all if she kept both children at her house. He could come over whenever he wanted, to babysit, play swords or whatever. She argued that he'd also have to play dollies if the girl wanted him to, and he agreed shamelessly. They also agreed that their names should be after themselves, since they're the coolest people they know.

Meanwhile, Dirk baby-proofed his house, just in case. He packed up all of the miscellaneous swords that were not nailed to the wall, shampooed the old-ass carpet, bleached everything else, bought bottles and plastic dishes, yadda, yadda, yadda.

He still wanted to know what Roxy knew about the boss. She dodged the question expertly for an additional two months before he cornered her after buying a shit-ton more diapers.

"Why won't you just simply tell me what makes you so scared of her!" he demands, blocking her way to her kitchen with one arm. She squints her eyes at the arm, then turns to him by tilting her head to the side diagonally.

"You really want to know, huh?" she sneers.

"Yes."

"Fine!" She drops the plastic bags of disposable underwear and puts her arms up. "Lead me to interrogation, officer!" she says while gesturing to the air with her hand.

"Come on." He drags her by her arm to the living room couch and sits. She does the same.

"She's a fucking alien," she says as she sits down.

"Do you expect me to believe that?"

She looks him dead in the eye. "She's. An. Alien."

* * *

"How is that even possible?" he asks.

"Honestly?" she answers, shrugging the shruggiest of all shrugs. "I don't know! No clue! She hasn't told much, just that she crash-landed, killed the original Betty Crocker, and created a company." These were all things that she was told. Like the woman said, who's she going to tell? She'll be put in the nuthouse, that that's for sure.

"Killed the original Betty Crocker? Now that's just cruel. And impossible."

"Yeah, and she all the recipes, too. Half of them out now, especially those gummy pieces of shit with the juice inside, are her own. We've introduced alien food to the public, Dirk, and nobody knows!" She laughs boisterously. "I don't know how she did it, but she did!"

"Did what? You're not making any sense."

"She can live forever if she wanted to. Or close to it. She's already old, so…"

Dirk sighs, bringing down Roxy from her unsteady high. He leans his forehead against his hand.

"I know I sound crazy, and even though I don't have definitive proof, I am telling the truth. I'm not just making these things up just because it's different."

"Okay, let's say I believe you. What's so frightening about her?"

"She killed Mr. English."

He raises his eyebrows out from under his pointed sunglasses.

"Right in front of me."

"What? When?" He's concerned.

"Eight months ago, the day after we uh…" She wanted to forget the day after ever happened. She wasn't allowed to go home for the next few days, at the request of the boss herself.

"Did the thing, yeah. I get it."

"Anyway, she finds 'human mating rituals' disgusting, so when she starting asking questions about why I was so fat, I just told her. We argued that it was too late to abort, and when I told her that it was her fault for keeping me from getting what I needed to prevent it, she nearly killed me herself!" When he tries to take her hand, she refuses. "Then the day I called you, she gave me until the end of term, then I am to either transfer where she wants me to, or she'll order me to quit."

Roxy can tell that Dirk is dumbfounded. "She can't do that!"

She reiterates what she told him two months ago. "She can and she has." Roxy takes a breath and puts on a smile and her chin in her hand. "I know I'm going to have to quit. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Dirk purses his lips and puts his face in his hands, groaning. "What a fucking nuisance."

"Yes she is."

* * *

"Dirk, you have a call," his boss calls from across the noisy packaging room. He'd been taking extra shifts, so they had gotten to know each other pretty well. "My office, line two."

"Thank you, sir," he answers, taking off his faded orange cap. He pumps some hand sanitizer on his hands before picking up the phone, wiping the excess on his black tank. Why he's wearing something so light at the beginning of December, no one will ever know. "This is Dirk Strider."

"IT'S HAPPENING!" the woman shrieks from the other end of the line. "I'M AT MY HOUSE COME GET ME WITH YOUR WEIRD NINJA POWERS!"

It's happening? It's happening?! "I'm on my way, I'll call an ambulance for you!"

"I DON'T TRUST SOME IDIOTS WITH A NIGHT SCHOOL DEGREE! I TRUST _YOU!_"

"Okay, I'm coming! I'm clocking out now. See you in a few." He immediately hangs up, an unintentional smile forming on his face. He darts out of his boss's office. "Mr. H, I'm clocking out! It's happening!" he yells as he runs to the employee locker room.

"Good luck!" he yells back.

Dirk wastes no time getting the hell out of dodge, throwing his jacket on at the same time. Ignoring his court order, he runs all the way to Roxy's house, not slowing down for a single obstacle. He gets there in ten minutes flat and barges in.

Water. Water everywhere. He looks over to the couch and sees Roxy draped on it like a ragdoll.

"Fina-fuckin'-lee!" she cries. Hurry, the contractions are only eight minutes apart now!

"The fuck?! You should have told me hours ago!" He picks her up princess-style and she wraps her arms around his neck.

"I was asleep hours ago!"

"Didn't they wake you up? Isn't that kind of what labor is supposed to do?" He's taken the courses with Roxy a few times, so he knows a little bit about this stuff.

"I thought they were just kickin' me again! They've been doing that a lot lately!" She stifles a grunt. "Fuuuhhhseven minutes."

"Damn it, Roxy."

She shrugs in his arms.

He makes sure her door is locked before taking off to the hospital. Five minutes later, he is panting heavily and the nurses take her away on a stretcher.

"Are you the father?" one of the nurses asks.

"Yes," he answers.

"Then follow me, she needs moral support and you need to get scrubbed up," she orders him.

He looks down at himself. He'd picked up a lot of dirt on the way. "Yes, ma'am."

"First time?" she asks.

He takes a deep breath. "Yup."

"I can tell because you're smiling like a madman." Is he? "I see it all the time." She smiles.

He gives an awkward smile back. "I don't know what to say to that," he laughs. Awkward.

"Let's just get you back to her side."

The process doesn't take very long, surprisingly. He's in and out in less than two minutes. The nurse leads him to Roxy's delivery room lets him in.

"You asshole! You're late—AUUGH!" she screams.

What?! Wait, this is normal, right? "Better late than never," he replies. He takes her hand off the bed frame and she squeezes it hard. "Mother of fuck!" he yells. She's a strong one, alright.

"I hate everything! Fuck you Betty Crocker, fuck you doctors, and FUCK YOU DIRK STRIDER!" More screaming. It truly is a miracle all these doctors and nurses aren't deaf by now.

"Yes you did! And you liked it too!" he retorts.

"I'M GOING TO PUNCH YOU! AND NEVER AGAIN!"

"That's one," their regular doctor says, expertly cutting the umbilical cord.

Dirk looks over to see a baby girl being lifted up and taken away to be cleaned. A giant, bald, pink raisin covered in mysterious goo and blood crying like no tomorrow in the arms of a very patient nurse. Another bone-crushing squeeze to his hand brings his attention back to Roxy.

"If I live through this, remind me to cut off your dirk and feed it to sewer gators," she says through gritted teeth. He gulps. She doesn't mean that, right?

"Good luck with that. And you are going to live through this." He puts his forehead against hers and ruffles her hair. "You can do this."

"Roxy, the other one is having trouble coming out. Don't push quite yet." The doctor disappears under her gown. Dirk doesn't even want to know what is happening down there. "Okay, now!"

She complies, and more shouting and cursing ensues. Dirk's hand is just about broken by now. The whole process feels like it's taking too long.

"That's two!" the doctor finally exclaims. Dirk opens his eyes and looks to Roxy, who is just about to pass out. She is so done.

He hears the clipping of the other cord and looks to the doctors. The baby boy is bright red and sniffling. It almost looks like hiccupping. That's too cute.

Roxy tugs gently on Dirk's arm. "How are they?" she asks, looking sleepily into his eyes.

"They're alive," he deadpans. He then smiles and says, "They're perfect, Rox."

She giggles and closes her eyes. "I'mma try to stay awake so I can see them. Gimme my babies."

"Can we hold them yet?" Dirk asks one of the nurses. "She's just about to pass out."

"Give us a minute, we want to give them both to you, and we're almost finished with the boy," one answers.

"Give 'em a sec," he relays.

"Thank you for being here," she mumbles, shaking his arm.

"Anytime, Roxy," he says, bending down to kiss her forehead.

An entirely different nurse comes back into the delivery room with a baby in each arm, one wrapped in pink, the other in blue. Both are calm and sleeping.

"Hey look, one for you and one for me," Dirk points out.

"Rude," Roxy drawls. She takes them both gingerly, one on either side of her. "They're both _mine._"

"No fair, I want one!"

"You can have…" She looks at both of them, going back and forth and pouting her lips. "The boy. Dave. He looks about ready to blow a huge snot bubble."

"Thanks," he draws out, reaching for the blue bundle with tufts of blonde sticking out of the area around his face. It doesn't match for some reason. He holds the baby up to his chest like he was taught, supporting the head in the crook of his elbow. There's no snot bubble to be seen.

Then, the weirdest thing happens. The boy opens his eyes and looks right into Dirk's. His eyes are a brilliant red. Seconds pass that seem like hours. Dirk smiles again. This is his son.

The moment is inadvertently ruined when the doctor comes back in to tell them that they are to be moved to another room.

* * *

As soon as Dave left Roxy's side, it felt empty, so she picks up Rose and holds her in front of her chest.

"Such a precious little girl," she whispers just loud enough to hear herself. "My sweet, precious Rose." She will definitely be raised like one. Beautiful and intelligent, but come too close to her bad side and she will prick you.

Roxy didn't let herself think about tomorrow. She'll have to turn in her resignation as well as look for another job. Her savings will buy her some time, as well as give her an excuse to stay home and raise her new children.

Her children.

She gently strokes Rose's soft cheek. She stirs, but doesn't wake up completely. Her purple eyes open in slits, but then she goes right back to sleep again. That's so cute.

"Beautiful Rose," she coos at her daughter. Her daughter. Her daughter. Her daughter.

The rude doctor comes back in and tells them they needed to move to another room. Roxy huffs and lets herself be wheeled away, followed by Dirk and Dave.

Three long days later, they are free to leave the hospital. The proud parents are taken back to Roxy's home by taxi, ready for the rest of their lives.

But that night, something goes horribly, terribly wrong.


	7. UNDER A LOT OF PRESSURE

Feferi Peixes  
Age: 11 sweeps  
Occupation: Politician [s)(e invented t)(e job!]  
Blood Caste: Fuchsia  
Legacy: The kind one

Eridan Ampora  
Age: 11 sweeps  
Occupation: Vice-politician (wwhatevver)  
Blood Caste: Violet  
Legacy: Douchebag

There are too many trolls on this ship. They don't need any more problems, but here Eridan is, babysitting one. Aradia had apparently gotten injured on their little run from the mind honey explosion two months ago, and hasn't quite gotten her strength back yet. She's sleeping at the moment, which is fine for him, since he really doesn't feel like flapping his gills to anyone besides his moirail at the moment. He's trying not to blame her for the entire incident, but he's failing massively because she technically is the one who started all of this. Her and that red-blooded manager of theirs.

He's been hiding his true feelings for Feferi since they were young, and it is getting increasingly difficult to—

"How is she?" Sollux interrupted his thoughts.

"Still sleepin'," Eridan says, gesturing to the giant vat of a waste of slime.

"Oh." He steps closer. "I got it from here. You can go."

"Finally." He stands up from his chair and leaves. Eridan can swear he hears the yellowblood talking to her. She can't hear anything, so why does he even try? He shakes his head and keeps walking. He bumps into someone while turning the corner.

"Excuse me," Kanaya says. She pushes past him, going straight for a door at the end of the hall. She looks behind her. "Well? Shoo."

"Why?" He crosses his arms.

"Because what is past these doors is none of your concern."

"Well, we're kind of lost in space, so ewrythin' that happens here is ewryone's fuckin' business."

"We are not lost," she says with resolve.

Eridan walks toward her. "Oh really? Currently, I feel that this ship is going on impulse power and hawen't seen life or sustenance since we left Alternia."

"We are heading to Beforus."

"Beforus? Newer heard of it."

"It's where all the adults of our kind live. Or used to. We have one last resource to extort before we find another planet to go to."

"Another planet?!" Eridan has no idea what she's glubbing on about.

"Vriska and I will tell everyone about it in time."

"I think the time is now."

Kanaya sighs heavily. "Well, if you are so curious about it, I guess I will tell you my part of the plan. But on one condition."

"What?"

"Bring your friends. All three of them. I need them to know some background before we expose everything to you. Sollux and Aradia already know, since they helped formulate it with Tavros." She purses her lips. "Gamzee will figure everything out eventually. He is quite the spy."

"For a second, I thought you were flirtin' with me."

Kanaya squints her eyes. "What part of anything I just described sounded flirtatious to you? I have half a mind to cut you here and now. It will save us some slime to sleep in." She raises her arms to shoo him away. "Now go, I will be here." She turns him and gives him a push.

"Now go, I will be here," he repeats to himself in a high-pitched voice. Cod damn landdweller. He shoves his hands into his pockets and shoves off.

He finds Karkat on the deck, arguing with Vriska on where to go. He'll come back later.

Nepeta is hanging out with the other cat troll in the crow's nest. What the glub? They're probably stuck up there again.

Where's Feferi? He checks all the decks but finds no sign of her. He checks the brig. She's there, alright, huddled in one of the cages on the floor in the dark. No place for a diplomat.

"Fef, I need you," Eridan says.

"Not now, Eridan, I can't," she responds.

"Not like that, I just…" She sniffles. "Are you okay?"

"No."

"We're moirails, let me hear your feelins." He steps up to the bars she's leaning against and crouches down. "We can use my big dumb cape for a pile if you want."

"That's sweet of you, but I just can't."

They stayed there for what seemed like hours before Feferi speaks up again.

"I'm still mourning, that's all."

"For Tav?" The thought of them being together makes his skin crawl, but there's no use getting angry over it again.

She nods.

"You were red for him, right?"

"Mm-hm."

"Well, I can't accept your choices, but I do respect them. You can hawe whatewer feelins you want. You're allowed. The highest of the highbloods are allowed to do what they want."

She stays silent.

"An' before you thank me, just know that I'll be here. Because I still hawe those feelins I had sweeps ago. Just because we hawen't spoken in a while, doesn't make us not moirails."

She turns her head over her shoulder, looking into Eridan's eyes. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He stands up. "Kan needs us to get Kar and Nep and meet her in the storage block."

"Oh," she replies. "I'll be right there." She wipes her eyes and uses the bars to stand.

"I can wait. It's what good moirails do, right?"

"Right." She smiles at him and follows him out of the brig.

* * *

Karkat is so done with Vriska right now. It's clearly going to take them at _least_ half a sweep or more to get them to the closest planet, and it sure hell _isn't_ Beforus! He's not even sure Beforus even exists. He's been spending the last two months pouring over star maps with zero to no sleep and it's starting to take its toll.

He storms off to a lower deck and finds Sollux in the sleeping quarters next to Aradia. Not exactly the person he wants to see, either. Karkat turns on his heel to leave but gets caught.

"Hey ath-hole," Sollux says.

"What?" Did his lisp get worse?

"I need to talk to you."

Fuck. He turns back around and walks over to the computer-type goggles-wearing psionic. "Why?"

"I have thome unfinished busineth with you."

Karkat knew already. He's going to get a new nook before the night is done.

Sollux stands up and takes Karkat's collar with both hands. "Don't think I've let you off the hook about TZ."

Karkat knew it. He didn't have anything planned to say. He just let Sollux do it. Karkat still mourns for her, too. Every day, every night, every time he looks up at the fucking stars, even.

"I _let_ you and her be together, remember?" He roughly shoves Karkat against the closest wall. "You should have been there. _I_ should have been there. Sinth you were the one branded the traitor, I really have no other choice but to blame you! I've already come to termth with mysthelf, sinth I already hate my own perthonality, and I highly doubt that anyone will ever underthand me better than she did!"

"I know all this shit already! I was also close to her, you know!"

"Not like I was!" Sollux tightens his grip and thrusts Karkat's head against the wall. "You can forget about me ever forgiving you. I may never feel pale for another troll in my life. My life ith probably half over already, and thanks to you, I'll probably only have Aradia, not to mention if she never waketh up, then I'll be all alone. Just. Like. You." He lets go.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know all this was going to happen! Don't you think I've already beat myself up over this?"

"You were her matethprit. I ekthpect you to."

"Then why all this bullshit?! If you knew that I'll just be self-indulgent on all this nonsense anyway, why even say anything to me at all?!"

"Thimple, KK. It'th my job. You let her die, and I'm giving you shit for it. But I am altho doing you a favor. Because according to Alternian law, I have every right to kill you. But I won't. Now get out of my sight." He turns to sit down in the chair again.

Karkat wants to say something else, but holds his tongue and leaves. It's probably the wisest thing he's done all day. He holds back as best as he can, ignoring the stinging in his eyes. He walks out. He needs some time alone to mourn. Maybe a new moirail. But he can't. He doesn't deserve another moirail. Or another matesprit for that matter. Fuck it, he doesn't need anyone! Never again will he deserve any_one_ or any_thing_.

He spies Kanaya in front of the storage block door, looking around. She sees him and motions him over. It's not like he has anything to do besides feeling sorry for himself, so he complies.

"What do you want?" he asks.

"I need to tell you something," she answers. "But I need you to find the rest of your party. I promised Eridan to disclose information until you get the whole story from the captain."

Karkat slaps his forehead. "Did that ass demand to know what you have stored in this room?"

"How did you guess?"

"I've known him for a while." He looks past her, but she blocks his path. "Can I come in at least? I mean I'm here, so I can right?"

She sighs. "Alright. But don't touch a thing. The captain is very particular on how she stores her treasures."

"I don't really give a shit about gold." He pauses. "You might need to cover it up for Nepeta, though." Karkat has heard that meowbeasts are suckers for shiny things, and since he doesn't know the troll very well, and based on the fact that she followed a fish that led them all here, she might get antsy.

"You're right. I will move the meeting to my quarters then. I'll be back." She absconds into the room for a minute. She comes back with a cube-shaped chest about a foot tall. "What is in this chest is the reason we are here. Not your group, of course. You just simply stumbled into our plan."

"What plan?" Vriska.

"Good evening, Captain. May I ask who's piloting the ship?"

"Calm down, Kanaya, I'm letting Mituna drive."

Kanaya raises her eyebrows.

"I've got him under my control, so he's not going to break course. I just needed a break. I'm tired of standing. We really should install a stool for that thing."

"Well, when we get to a planet that provides wood-like material, we will."

"So, what plan?"

"I was going to tell them some background before you told them what we are doing, but it seems that you are here now, so you can do it all yourself."

"Awesome." She smirks at Karkat. "I do love to babble."

Karkat rolls his eyes. He is so done with every single troll on this ship. Except maybe Kanaya. He can stand her for more than five seconds. Maybe…

NO.

* * *

"I can see why you like to come here so often," Nepeta tells the small troll. Meulin is a really sweet girl. Her hearing is bad, so she needs to speak slowly, but it's not too much of a struggle.

"I just hate coming back down." Meulin reaches her arms up. "Carry me?"

"Purrhaps I should let you purractice." She stands up carefully and the small one follows suit. "Watch Nepeta!" She climbs on top of the railing like her lusus had taught her: on all fours. "Your turn!"

Instead of leaping on the railing, she leaps on Nepeta. She shrieks and falls off the rails, ramming her retractable claws into the mast just in time.

"Nepeta is furustrated!"

"Meulin is sorry!"

"Nepeta tells Meulin to take the rest of the way by herself."

"Meulin rubs her head on Nepeta's head."

"Nepeta rejects the affections!"

Meulin lets out a hiss.

"No! Get down!"

Meulin lets herself down, finally managing to get to the bottom by herself.

"See? I knew you could do it!" Nepeta smiles.

Meulin smiles back and pounces off to the lower decks, where her potential matesprit is waiting, ready to take her back to the sleeping quarters. Nepeta had the special assignment of taking care of Meulin while her special furiend Kurloz was at his station. Now that their shift was ofurr, they are to go to sleep immediately.

She climbs down the rope ladders by hopping furom rung to rung. If Equius were here, he would tell her to be careful, since the sun shield isn't solid and only capable of holding in gases, not solid mass, and not to mention the grreatest sunglass egg in existence. She tried to think about her moirail every day. There's a rather large hole in the place of her blood-pusher, but she knew he wouldn't want her to be so sad all the time. The furst week was the worst. There wasn't enough slime to go around, so the night terrors were relentless. It made her weak, and she hated it. She didn't sleep for a few days after that. Her crewmates weren't much help, either. There's nothing like losing a moirail that will make one want for their moirail. There really was no cure for this revenge she yearns for. Her old life on Alternia had come to an end, and that ceruleanblood was long gone furom her reach.

She lands gracefully on the deck in a crouch. She looks up to see Karkat looming ofurr her.

"Good morning, Karkat," she greets him cheerfully.

"You're extra chippertastic today," he says blandly. He's purrobably not in a good mood. She huffs, trying to imitate his expression and body language.

"And you're extra grumpy today."

"Stop."

"Nope." She fails to keep her angry face on.

He sighs exasperatedly. "Just come with me. I have no time for your shit."

Dejected, she allows herself to be dragged along by her upper arm. Karkat sure is a sourpuss today. She wonders what happened. He's been getting better about not being so angry all the time, but all he did was get sadder instead.

It makes Nepeta want to pounce on him endearingly.

But she won't because they're coming up to the door of the storage unit, and there is simply no room in there for them to not break anything.

They enter the small block, every square inch covered with fabric. It so enticing…

Karkat had stopped pulling her along and sits her on the ground between him and Eridan. Kanaya, Vriskers and Feferi are also there.

"Now. Down to business," Kanaya begins.


	8. I1A2: Still Into You, Y'know?

Please Be Home for Christmas

* * *

"Merry Christmas!"

"Mrs. Crocker?" Roxy calls out. She has turned white as a sheet. "What are you doing at my house?" The CEO of their company stands on the front porch. She looks bitter in her metallic fuchsia skirt-suit.

"I'm pretty shore that I told you I was coming a while ago." She pauses to look at her nails. Dirk remembers now. She told Roxy that she would have to quit the day the babies arrived. It's been three days, but it still feels too soon. "I'm here to tell you that I'm going to give you your job back. On one condition."

Dirk eyes Roxy warily. He shakes his head slightly when their eyes meet, trying to convey the feeling that it just sounds_ fishy._ She turned her gaze back to the boss and gulped. "Why now?"

The woman in pink sighs and comes down the stairs, heels clacking on the wood. "I need you to build something for my daughter."

Dirk intervenes. "This is bullshit, she has her own children now. Why does she have to take care of yours?"

Both women turn their heads towards him, absolutely appalled.

"Dirk, it's fine. When do you need it done?"

"Rox!" Dirk objects. He objects so hard.

"I need it by the twenty-fifth. This stupid human holiday is makin' me rich, but it's driving me fuckin' insane."

A Christmas present? Is she serious? "Is she serious?"

"Serious as death." She drew out the word like she was saying "sea"-rious. She struts toward Dirk and stands over him, looking down her nose. He squinted back up at her, trying not to be intimidated by her stature. Not only was she bigger than life, but in person. Shit, she might just be an alien after all.

"What do you like me to build for her? What does she like?"

She looks at Roxy like she grew a second head and puts her hands on her hips. "Like?"

"What are her interests?"

"Shell if I know," she scoffs. "I usually just make my assistants buy the latest things, no expenses spared." She visually shuddered when she said that. "But since I fired everyone a few months ago, I need someone to take over their jobs. You can even let your buoy toy join." Did she just day "buoy"?

"How would I know what to make if I don't know what she likes?"

"Befriend her, obviously!" She waves them both inside. "Come in, I need sustenance."

They both sigh and follow her in. They come home with two newborns, they're threatened, and now they're supposed to serve her? What a bitch.

Dirk tried to talk to her while they let the woman in their house. She expertly dodged every question. After a while, he just gave up trying to ask directly and just started giving her antonyms. "Double-you tee eff, Rox?" What the fuck, Roxy?

Immediate response. "Ess tee eff you, D-Stri. Ell eight are." Shut the fuck up, Dirk. Later. That wasn't cryptic in the slightest.

"Kay." Okay.

Roxy hands him Rose and tells him to put them to bed while she negotiates the terms with the tyrannical businesswoman. Miraculously, the twins slept through the whole ride home. The room they had set up over the past few months was finally finished last week, complete with white walls, hanging models of suns and moons, the letters of their names painted over their perspective cribs, and toys everywhere. Most of them are the generic learning and exploration bullshit like rattling ladybugs and books made of quilt that sing to you, but a lot of them are creatures he invented and painstakingly hand-sewed by himself. Dirk doesn't quite know what to call them yet. There's also a doll in an old box he found while clearing out his apartment to make room for the kids when they came over to his apartment. He hadn't seen it in years, and forgot he even still had it. Even without the name on its little shirt, Dirk will always remember the doll's name: his childhood friend, Li'l Cal.

Should he give it to one of them now? Who would get it? Girls like dolls when they're little, but he knows that if Dave was anything like himself, then he'd appreciate the small things that survive one's childhood. Now the question is when. He decides that now will be as good as a time as any, so he puts it at the foot of Dave's crib, and straightens it back up when it falls face-first.

He turns on the nightlight and baby monitor before he leaves the door open just a crack. Just in case the one-way walkie-talkies don't work.

He flash-steps down the stairs and to the kitchen, appearing just outside the door. No use in revealing his abilities to such a dangerous woman yet.

"What'd I miss?" he asks.

"She's just telling me the heiress's daily routines," Roxy answers. "It's actually quite vigorous."

"She will be my heiress someday, and I need her to be as good as I am," Betty Crocker says sternly. "You will run into her while I give her the official tour the factory's business and sciences division tomorrow."

"How old is she?" Dirk asks. He sits down next to Roxy.

"I adopted her and her brother as newborns over sixteen earth years ago."

Taken aback, Dirk responds, "I never would have guessed you were that old."

"Careful where you trod, Mr. Strider," BC warns. "Despite the vast amount of workers I have hired over the years, I still know every face that come and go through my doors."

"Well pardon me, your majesty." He bows sarcastically.

"When you are finished, deliver it straight to my office," she says, standing up from the wooden chair. She walks out silently, not even saying goodbye.

"Finally," Dirk says, taking her seat. How is it not warm? She'd been sitting there for about fifteen minutes. Roxy seemed to pick up on his confusion.

"She's cold-blooded," she states.

"Yeah, I know. She has no empathy."

"No, I mean literally."

"Oh." He had nothing to say except, "I'm convinced now."

Roxy gives him a disappointed look.

"What?"

She just shakes her head. "I have no idea what to build for a spoiled rich brat." She sighs and bends down to lay her chin on the table. "She's probably got a better cellular phone than I do. Not like I care, but…"

"Hey, didn't she tell you to befriend her?"

"It's gonna be hard. I don't know how to talk to teenagers. I'm twice her age! I feel old just thinking about this."

He reaches over the table and rubbed her shoulder. "You'll be fine. Just talk about Backstreet Boys or something. Girls love that shit nowadays."

"Who?"

"They're popular. That's all you need to know."

She laughs softly. "Yeah, okay. I'll make sure to do my homework. Pick up a teeny bopper magazine or something." They're interrupted by the sound of muffled crying on the baby monitor in Dirk's pocket. "I'll go. Make me some coffee, please? It's probably Rose. She's very prompt." She drags herself up and out.

"No prob." He gets up and gets out two mugs. He's in the middle of scooping the beans when he hears a shrill scream. He drops the measuring spoon and rushes upstairs, ready to fight. "Roxy!"

"DIRK, WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT THING?!" she shrieks, holding a crying Dave and pointing. Rose is still crying in her crib. He follows her finger and sees that Li'l Cal had fallen over again. He walks over to Rose and picks her up to calm her down. The small girl seems to like his shirt, and proceeds to slobber all over it, shutting up. That was easy.

"I don't see anything."

"That fuckin' doll! What is it doing in there?"

"Li'l Cal?" He gestures to the crib. "He's cool."

"Get him out of there. _Now._"

"Why?"

"I walked in to tend to Rose and saw that she woke Dave up, and as soon as I turned on the lamp, he started crying and kicking it! I don't mind but… I think you just scarred him for life!"

"He's only three days old! He's not even going to remember this."

"Just get it out." She goes on to baby talk Dave, who doesn't stop crying for a good ten minutes. In the meantime, he gets his childhood friend out and tosses it over his shoulder. Guess it's back to the box.

"Hey Rox," he says, looking down at the koala on his chest.

"Hmm?" Dave stopped crying by then. She brushes past to put him back in the crib.

"She won't let go." Roxy looks over to see him trying to peel the baby death gripping baby off his shirt.

"Maybe she loves her daddy that much," she teases.

Dirk can't help but blush. Maybe having a daughter won't be so bad.

* * *

Going back to work after finally having a child is super surreal. Roxy is greeted by her usual team of scientists, which she leads. She still feels fat as fuck now that there's no kids in there anymore. She unconsciously puts a hand on her stomach when her colleagues weren't looking. Dirk doesn't work today, so he's taking care of them. She hopes they're okay, she trusts Dirk enough to not call once every half an hour. She resolved herself to call only every hour, on the hour.

Lunch time finally rolls around. Moment of truth. She takes a deep breath and grabs a shit-ton of folders stuffed with outdated scientific documents from 1985. She knew these would come in handy one day. Any minute now, Mrs. Crocker will come by with her daughter, and Roxy will do her thing.

Finally, she heard the clacking of two pairs of heels on the tile floors. She picks up the ridiculous pile folders and makes her way out of her office.

"Here is our science division," Mrs. Crocker tells her daughter. Speaking of which, she never even bothered to tell Roxy her daughter's name. Much like her lack of pop culture knowledge that she spent half the night brushing up on (all she knew about the subject was what was printed in GameGirl magazine, which is just video games for girls), she doesn't know much about the personal life of the family at the top of the baking business. Not much was actually known about them, so Roxy ungracefully rage quit the entire mission.

While trying to remember the tune to a song she heard on the radio the previous night, she takes a misstep and tumbles down way too early, making the papers scatter. Great. This wasn't part of the plan. She slowly and awkwardly gets down to her knees and starts putting them back together. She's not pregnant anymore, but her size hasn't changed much the past few days.

"Do you need help?" a shy voice asks, interrupting Roxy's inner griping. The short girl with baby blue eyes and a pixie cut wearing a white dress and a bright red apron is bending over her paperwork and offering a hand. She looks genuine enough. Her mother is nowhere to be seen.

"Yes, uh, thank you," Roxy stammers. She didn't expect that.

Roxy also didn't expect the girl to get on her own knees to collect them along with her.

"No, you're gonna get your dress dirty. You don't have to."

"It's fine," she replies. It's more like an I-hate-this-dress-anyway comment.

Roxy pops the question. "Are you Betty Crocker's daughter?"

"Jane," she corrects. "Just Jane please."

Small talk? "So how about them Backstreet Guys?"

"Who?"

Shoot! "Never mind." This is going downhill fast. Think of something, Roxy!

"Are you pregnant?" Jane asks suddenly. She stopped collecting the papers, staring at the still-swollen belly.

"No! No, I just had them. Twins." She can't help but smile to herself. Two bundles of stress and eighteen years of negative funds.

"What's it like?" She realized she wasn't helping anymore and continued.

"Being pregnant?" Roxy laughs. "A lot of vomiting and eating weird shit."

Jane giggles. "No, I mean…" She leans in to whisper, "Sex?" She turned red as she said it.

That. Was. _Adorable_. She snorts. "Well, I'm not one to kiss and tell but," she leans in to whisper, "it was epic." It was a half-drunken experience, but still.

"I'm sorry, that was—" the young girl cut herself off. "I'll just go now." She gets up to leave, but then gets back down and picks up more papers.

"You're a very sweet young lady," Roxy says, trying to comfort her. "One comment about sexual desires don't make you a bad person." She winks. "I'm Roxy Lalonde. Nix the doctor bit, it's a bit much. You can just call me Roxy." She reaches out her hand.

Jane blinks, then smiles meekly, taking the hand.

"I'm sorry, I have to get back to work." She puts the papers back in the folders, and the folders in a neat pile.

"I got it."

"Thanks." Roxy struggles to stand up. "Ugh, I'm fat as fuck." As she straightens herself up, Jane takes the entire pile easily. "It was nice meeting you."

"You, too. Where were you going with these? They're from 1985."

Shit. "I was going to the shredding room." Was she supposed to hang out with her this long? She's not opposed, but…"But you don't have to. Your mother's waiting."

"This was the last stop, I think. Besides, I'm glad she's gone. It's nice to talk to people who don't run away at the sight of me."

Ah. "Your mom, right?"

"Yes." She scowls. "I hate her."

"Whoa." Roxy doesn't have much experience being a mother, but she thinks she would be devastated if she ever had that kind of relationship with Rose. Roxy vows that she will be the best mother anyone has ever seen.

They both walk to the shredding room, side-by-side and silent.

"Aren't you tired?"

"Not really. I'm stuck in my room a lot, so sometimes I do pushups and stuff." She shrugs.

Hmm. Interesting. The wheels are turning in Roxy's brain. "Don't you watch TV?"

"I don't have a TV. My brother has a TV."

"I would have figured you had some big screen or something. Or your own theater in the basement!"

"Well if we did, it sure would have been nice to tell me about it!" Jane laughs.

"Haha, yeah," Roxy laughs awkwardly. Something in her gut is telling her that there might be more going on in that house than everyone else believes. She's the exact opposite of spoiled: she's _deprived_.

"Between you and me, I think he took it from the factory somewhere."

Wait a minute. "Does said TV have a deep scratch on the left side of the box?"

"Yeah."

"Oh Em Gee."

"_Was_ that your TV?"

"It was in the break room up until last year. So that's where it went!" Roxy isn't sure whether to laugh or cry because that friggin' TV disappeared. It was the only escape in this dreadful place. They got a new one, but there are a few people still attached to that old thing.

"I'm sorry, my brother is an idiot."

Roxy knows what to build Jane for Christmas. They get rid of the papers and save the folders, returning quickly to Roxy's office. They stayed there and talked for another hour before Mrs. Crocker came back for her heiress.

"Did you have fun with your new friend?" the seven-foot CEO asks Jane.

"She's not—" Jane is cut off by her mother.

"I'm glad you're making friends." Roxy's eye twitches. Something's off.

"Oh." Jane looks down at the floor, wringing her hands.

"Within the company, I trust your judgment, Jane."

"So, I'm allowed to talk to Roxy?"

"We'll see."

There it is. That spark of life in Jane's eyes that only a domineering authoritative figure like Betty Crocker can give back. Jane looks back at Roxy with a big smile, so full of hope. They wave goodbye as Mrs. Crocker leads her daughter away.

The day before Christmas Eve, Roxy knocks on Mrs. Crocker's office door, gift in hand. How she found time to make this thing was incredible, considering she had to share the workload with Dirk and the kids, buy them presents, exercise, and _still_ have to go to work. She's pretty sure she has also made some technological advances and breakthroughs in miniaturization over the past few weeks. Jane's going to love it.

"Enter!" the woman calls from the inside. Roxy opens the wooden door carefully. "I suspect the gift you made is finished?" she asks, not looking up from her work.

"Yes, ma'am," Roxy replies. She presents the plastic crescent shape to her boss, cradled in both hands. "Here it is."

"What is it?" Now she looks up.

"It's a crown. For communication purposes, mostly. The little circle button on the top picks up radio waves and displays them on any surface with you push it twice." It's look is a simple off-white color with a red spoon symbol on the button itself.

Mrs. Crocker leans back in her oversized chair, her fingers resting on her chin as if she were deep thought. Finally, she says, "Rejected."

What?! "I beg your pardon?" She lost sleep over this thing! What the hell!

"It's a fantastic product. Just change it to red."

"Oh." Well, that changes things. "Alright. I'll have it for you by tomorrow." That was unnecessarily nerve-wracking. She did that on purpose.

Roxy returned the next day, the final product spray-painted red and the spoon hand-painted white. Using white-out, of course. Some sacrifices had to be made. She delivers it once again to Betty Crocker, who simply takes it and leaves it on the desk, and then tells Roxy to leave.

"Will that be all, Mrs. Crocker?"

"Yes. If she likes this, you will do this every year, twice a year. Your payment will be included in your salary."

Roxy really detests this woman. "Thank you. Merry Christmas!" She was glad her boss wasn't looking, because she had the most sarcastic smirk on her face.

"Leave."

"Yes, ma'am." Bah, humbug to you too, you stupid alien. As soon as the door closes, she gives a double middle finger combo in the CEO's general direction.

* * *

Over the first few months of their existence, the proud parents systematically and strategically took turns taking care of Dave and Rose. They switched off days where they would make dinner, from the extremely simple ramen noodle cups to barbeque in Roxy's backyard. If one person has dinner, the other has diaper duty. It worked. The growing problem was when one went to work, the other one needed to stay home. Dirk hadn't been back to his apartment more than twice in three months. When Dirk stayed home, he got really good at multi-tasking; he just used his flash-step skills.

Roxy insisted that Rose have her last name, and that Dave have Dirk's last name. He didn't disagree. Dave had grown on him like a weed and so he bought the little guy identical shades. What had also grown on him was the new show that Rose babbled at when he flipped the TV to the local kid's network. Colorful, talking horses romped around the screen, talking in high-pitched voices, and for some reason there was a flying rainbow that made shit happen in a bad situation that only one little girl can control. He decided to buy every single fucking toy this franchise has, except for the ones with small pieces. Rose loved them, and he vows that he will never tell her that he actually bought them for himself for when she grows out of it.

April came, and Roxy was at her workdesk more often. He asked her why.

"It's Jane's birthday on the thirteenth."

"Did the batterbitch put you up to this?"

"I'm getting paid for it."

"Well, don't let me interrupt." He steps to the kitchen and reheats some leftover pizza. "Pizza?"

"Yessss," she hisses excitedly. She glances at the clock. "Aren't you glad Rose doesn't cry at the same time every night?"

"I was getting used to her predictability." Dirk shrugs.

"Oh well."

"What are you making this time?" He remembers helping her make the last gift. All he had to do was teach her everything he knew. The only thing he was remotely interested in when he went to college was engineering and robotics. It didn't pan out, since he found his true passion in the arts. The _rapping_ arts. It's the arts. _The arts_.

"Something super simple," she replies with a snarl. She continues to doodle some frightening beasts indeed on the expensive blueprint paper scattered across the makeshift workbench, otherwise known as the kitchen table.

"Is that a pillow?"

"Super. Simple."

"Oh-kay." He pauses. "You should hide something in it. You said she's deprived, right? So why not a weapon or something?"

She stops working and slams her chewed pencil down on the table. "Dirk, you are a _genius!_"

"Thanks."

"But now I have to make the weapon."

"You're welcome."

"Not helping." She smirks. "Why don't you help then? I'm going to need one of your shitty katanas."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

Staredown.

A baby's crying alerts them to get back to business.

* * *

_dear jane  
roxy speaking. im going to give you a really cool thing, but you have to put it together yourself.  
over the next few months, i will send you different parts and clues. its about 4 pieces total.  
anyway i hope you actually get this note.  
the clue: keep your eye out in july for the letter why.  
roxy_

Roxy folds the note neatly, tucking it into the last bit of plush she hadn't sewn yet. Sewing is hard, she discovered over the last few days. Dirk knew a little about sewing, so she asked for his help. In the end, it took just about all of her fingers being pricked, a yard and a half of ruined fabric, and a sacrificial pillow, used for its stuffing and thrown out like stale cookies.

In all honesty, it looked like that one hideous beast from that cop show that's all the rage nowadays. What was it called again? Detective Problems? Sleuth People? She's never seen it, but she's seen the promos, and all the animatronics look really dumb. But maybe she'll like it? It's beginning to grow on her now. Jane's birthday is in two days, on Monday, and the gift needs to be delivered by tomorrow.

Something taps her shin under the table. She peers under and sees Dave sitting there, wearing a tiny pair of silly anime shades. Now where in the world did he get those? And how did he get there? She must have been more out of it than she thought not to notice him coming. He continues babbling quietly. He is really, _really_ cute sitting there in his little shirt with the heart in the middle and shorts and tiny sneakers.

"Roxy!" Dirk barges in, huffing and puffing. Using the table and chair, she turns herself to see him leaning against the doorframes with both hands, exhausted and sweating. He's wearing a black tank and matching exercise pants and sneakers, also in silly anime shades. Mm, dem arms. She notices his hair and raises her eyebrows. Is he…?

"Is your hair spiked _and_ slicked back at the same time?" she asks, amused.

"Uh…" He swallows uncomfortably and pushes his glasses back up his nose. "Okay, you got me." He leans up against one doorframe and crosses his arms nonchalantly.

"Dirk," she warns sternly. He'd better not say what she thinks he's going to say.

"I've been taking Dave out a lot lately."

More sternly. "_Dirk._"

"I've been training him in the art of flash-stepping."

Even sterner. "Dirk! What about Rose?!"

"I've been taking her with us. She just sits there, judging us."

"Oh my god." She turns back to the stuffed "thing", her hands hovering just outside her ears. "Unbelievable." He has not spoken to her about this. Raising Dave and Rose is supposed to be a team effort! They're supposed to communicate about things! "I thought we had a plan going here."

"I've been multitasking." He finally wanders over to the table. He pauses next to her, then suddenly looks under the table. "Huh. I could have sworn…"

She looks too. Dave had disappeared. Where did he go? "What are you looking for?"

"Our son. He's been learning too well."

Roxy's not sure whether to laugh or yell at him some more. She goes with a combination of snorting and sighing with exasperation.

"He was here, wasn't he?" he says, coming back up by his forearms. The table creaks as he does it.

"Maybe. Speaking of where, where is our _daughter?_"

"Napping. It is noon, after all." That's when they're put down for their naps.

"Check the crib. He's probably tired."

"Why didn't I think of that?" he mutters to himself, wiping his forehead with his palm. "Nice thing, by the way. Is that the finished product?"

"Yup. I couldn't have done it without your help. That sai really came in handy."

"No problem." He exhales, turning away. "I gotta go sneak up on Dave now. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve."

"Before you go, I want to let you know that we need to talk about this. I'm not against it, I just… You could have just done it differently."

He stops at the doorway. "If I asked, you probably would have said no."

"Really?" she says incredulously. "It's father-son bonding time! I wouldn't have said no to that!" Maybe.

He turns back to smile. "You're awesome." He comes back and kisses her forehead lightly, then flashes away. She closes her eyes and smiles. He's still a bit rough around the edges, but he's getting there.

"Maybe we should get a nanny," she mumbles to herself. Last time she made Jane a gift, she was paid a thousand bucks, because apparently, Jane loved it. If it happens again, that's enough for someone to take care of just Rose for a straight month. He or she could even be on call if both Dirk and Roxy have to work.

It's something to consider, for sure.

July comes. Roxy stashes the next piece of Jane's gift behind the "Y" in the lighted Betty Crocker Corporation sign in the on-site gardens. She wrapped it up and tied a magnet to it, and it stuck nicely. After she met Jane that first time, Roxy noticed her wandering around there after hours. Hopefully, Jane would have understood the clue, or gotten it at all. And hopefully, the gardeners won't notice it there and throw it out.

Dave and Rose have been growing like weeds. Rose is already attempting to read by herself, and Dave outcrawls his mother every time he needs to be changed or bathed. "Outcrawl" meaning "disappearing just before she gets her hands on him". It must be the breastmilk. She should probably wean him off soon. He's getting too strong. Rose is suspiciously more obedient than Dave. She still cries and laughs like a normal child, but… She might be just as smart as her mother. She's proud of both of them so far.

This time, the note to Jane read:

_janey!  
happy summer! this is part two of your birthday present. well its a little late so its just a pain ol present now. the final piece will be in your christmas present.  
have you guessed what it is yet? no its not a cooking utensil, but it sure looks like one.  
the clue: this daily never fails never stops never ails… except on sundays_

That means the mail. She's going to send the last piece in the mail, disguised as a video game disc. Here's to hoping Jake has a video game system of some sort.

* * *

"Can I talk to you?" Dirk asks Roxy one night. She's lying in bed, trying to read a book about some computer system being released next year. She keeps ahead of the times to stay valuable, he guessed. He just hates it when it cuts into time they have alone. Dave and Rose are sleeping through the night without crying at least once nowadays, so they find themselves with free time to stay in and just watch TV or talk or read. Lately, he's been thinking about her a lot, and how much he admires how she's juggling all of the shit she does. They both do their share of the chores, but taking on the extra things like Jane Crocker's birthday gifts and exercising. Nine months and she's almost back to her pre-baby physique… Wow, he really fucked up her life, didn't he?

"Sure," she answers, looking up at him promptly. "What's going on?" she asks as Dirk circles the bed and sits in the empty space.

He's been rehearsing the questions for days, but he still can't find the guts to ask them. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." She closes the manual and drops it on the ground.

"Did I fuck up your life?" Wrong question, dumbass.

"What?" She shifts closer to him.

"I mean, you already had a life of your own, and then I came along because I wanted money, and then…" He gestures to his surroundings. "This."

"You just gestured to all of my house."

"Sorry, I just—"

"Let me stop you there." Shit. "I know what's happening here." She puts a comforting hand on his hand. "And it's not your fault. I actually blame my dumb, stupid behavior that night. I was drinking, I made you drink, and then I coerced you. It happened, I paid for it, and I'm over it. You're good, mister Strider." She gives him an awkward smile.

"But are you happy? I still feel that I shouldn't have done this to you, drinking heavily or not." He'd been beating himself up for a while now, but every time he looked at those two balls of platinum-blonde fluff that he can safely call his children, and despite the sleepless nights and the smelly diapers and the constant smell of baby powder permanently etched in his nose and the fact that he hasn't dropped any sick rhymes for the past year, he can't help but feel happy, and guilty for being so happy. Roxy literally did all the work. He just helped and did what she said like the sad scum he is.

"Of course I am!" Say again? "All my life, I have dedicated myself to my work, my education, and more work. The only solace I had was watching cartoons and drinking martinis when I got home. You should have seen me back then. I wasn't as lively as I am now."

He raises his eyebrows in disbelief. "Really."

"I was boring. I led a boring life. Then I got a job right out of school and created a mutant cat and I kept one of the kittens. For five years, I was that sad woman with no life and a pet cat who sometimes went to bars." She shifts her position. "Then Mutie died and I nearly became an alcoholic. So you can tell where this is goin'." He nods.

Dirk never would have guessed in a million years that Roxy was lonely, or that she resorted to alcohol when she was.

"Then Mr. H. came to me and asked me give you a tour, since he was busy. I said yes because I just thought, 'Oh, it's just some kid who dropped out of college to find himself but came back empty so now he's getting a job because he still lives with his parents', but it turned out to be one of the best nights of fun I have ever had." She winks.

"Okay, I see how it is," he says sarcastically. He gets up and walks in slow motion, exaggerating every single movement. "I'm just a walking boy toy, right?"

"Oh, shut up Di-Stri, I know you're messing with me!" she laughs.

"Nope." He slows down even more. He feels a lot better, but he'll need some time to process. "One more question."

"Lay it on me."

He leans on the bed with both hands. "Do you still plan to keep that promise you yelled at me in the delivery room? The one about 'never again'?" He's just curious.

"Get it off me." He found his answer. "In all seriousness, though, probably not. It's not you, it's just that I'm sick of sex for now."

Dirk nods in agreement. "I'm with you there. I was actually practicing abstinence before you came along. Too many degenerates wanted my ass, and I was sick of both genders equally."

"I am so sorry I broke your abstinency thing."

"Is that even a word?"

"Of course it is!"

"No it's not."

"You're no fun."

"Hm." He lets the side of his mouth curve upward. "That's me, a tight-wadded homosezual who's had two kids with his best friend." He takes her soft cheek in his hand. "And loves every second of it."


	9. Are We Trying Too Hard?

We Begin With A Necessary Flashback

* * *

"Kanaya, what are you planning?" Gamzee had been in the brig for a full day, and Vriska heard nary a sound from there. It made her think he was planning something. Like her moirail was planning something now. Vriska finally cornered Kanaya in her quarters.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, without looking up from her sewing. Rufioh ruined another shirt trying to fit it over his stupid dumbass horns that were getting too large for his body. Someone should teach him how to dress, instead of Kanaya making him new clothes every time his growing horns fucks something up. It gave Kanaya a good excuse to avoid Vriska. But not today.

"You're hiding something from me in my own treasure room."

"I thought it was _ours_." She paused, looking up with her eyes. "And you did promise me a single stash of treasure for my own." She looked back down and continues her work.

"It _is_ ours! That's why you need to share information with your own captain!" Vriska didn't want to play the moirail card, but she didn't have a choice besides mind control. _No one_ makes plans without Captain Vriska Mindfang Spinneret knowing about it, _especially_ her own first mate! In a calm voice, she asked, "What's in the chest, Kanaya? I'm your moirail, I need to know."

Kanaya paused again, lowering her sewing and sighing. She stared in front of her for a long time before answering, "An egg."

"An egg?" Really? What's so great about an egg? "What's so great about an egg?"

She bit her upper lip and chewed it slightly. "It's from my lusus. My mother grub. I cut it out of her with my chainsaw before I escaped my hive for the last time, killing her in the process."

"A Mother… What the fuck?!" Vriska suddenly stood up, then bent down to shake Kanaya's shoulders. "That's treason! There are only four left in existence! Well three now, but… Our entire crew will be slaughtered if they find it here!"

"Stop telling me things I already know." How did she remain so calm?! "I have a very good reason for doing the things I do."

Vriska failed to resist slapping her in the face. "How dare you risk my life for whatever you're planning! Without me! No one makes plans around here without my consent!"

"You need to meddle more than I do, am I right?" Kanaya laughed softly. "We truly are meant to be palemates." Was she talking to herself?

"Tell me."

"Alright." She got up and put away her supplies, lightly pushing Vriska out of the way. It took way too long. What a stupid hobby. It has too many pieces and takes way too long to clean. Not that she's very neat herself, but that's not the point. Kanaya gestured to her pile of fabric and sat on it. "Ready when you are."

Vriska plopped down front of the pile in a huff, crossing her arms. Kanaya just shrugs in response.

"I did it because I am sick of this planet's… shenanigans," she said like she was getting it off her chest. "I know our ancestors had some history, and not much besides that is known about my own outside of the original Mindfang's journal. What I do know is that she was a part of something bigger than ourselves, and I think I believe that I want to change it, too. By any means necessary."

"I didn't know you had it in you, Kanayaaaaaaaa." Vriska felt her smirk get bigger than she intended. Kanaya had balls, that's for sure. "But let's say that we join forces, which you have already taken the liberty of doing without my knowledge but I'm allowing it to slide because apparently we're so similar." She shrugs. "I've read my ancestor's journal too, so I know that her reputation was only heightened when it came to her beliefs. And now that I have become such a successful pirate," she flips her hair over her shoulder, "I think this will do the same for me."

Kanaya snorts uncharacteristically.

Vriska squints her eyes.

"I apologize. Go on."

"So the egg thingy, how does it work?"

"I have to incubate it in a few months, but after the new mother grub hatches, all we need are buckets to—"

"Skip the details."

"Right. Of course, the higher the blood caste, the longer it takes for those grubs to hatch. And since you're the highest adult troll aboard, it shouldn't take more than… eight sweeps for a new ceruleanblood to come around?"

"Perfection."

"Indeed. It also all depends on the environment. Mother grubs used to thrive in the caves because they were perfect for being private, damp, and still." She glanced around her quarters. "This ship is anything but. Well, the brig is damp enough, however that's only because putting the new mother grub in there is the sole reason I suggested it be able to withstand lusii in the first place." It all made sense now.

"So what other planet did you have in mind?"

Kanaya sighed again. "That's where my plan falls short. Clearly, I did not think this through before jumping on top of it." Vriska only raised an eyebrow. "The internet raves about a fantastical place called 'Beforus,' but as soon as I started studying your star maps, I realized it was a ridiculous and made-up farce."

"It sure is," Vriska scoffed. "I didn't even know it was a _thing_ on the internet. It's a stupid idea and it's fake and doesn't exist."

"I only chose it because it was the planet that older trolls had forcibly immigrated to. I figured it was a good place to start over. But lately, the age limit seems to rise. It's almost like a conspiracy now. I have no faith in Alternia now."

"You are so depressing."

"I'm not sure what you mean. I can't have faith in a world that has no good things anymore. However, I do have one thing I have faith in."

"And what is that?"

"The future. If I can do something about it, then I can have faith in it."

"They have a name for that. It's called being a _control freak_."

"It takes one to know one," Kanaya said, shrugging.

* * *

Karkat and Eridan prematurely react. The same way, no less.

"What do you mean Beforus isn't real?!" they shout simultaneously.

"I drew the small planet with a colored wax stick, you moron," Vriska says, chastising Karkat's dumbassery. "You should have at least picked up on that."

"The real morons are you two!" he accuses, pointing at Vriska, then Kanaya. All Vriska can do is laugh.

"To continue my story," Kanaya says loudly, raising her hand to motion the angry one to sit down. He does. "I'm afraid we had less time than I anticipated. For the last few weeks we were on Alternia, we were going to wait an additional four weeks before departing, so we could safely make it to another planet that we're quite sure is abandoned."

"And what planet is that?" he asks gruffly.

"It's the same planet that our beloved empress had visited so many sweeps ago. Official reports say it's uninhabited, even though the conditions observed are quite temperate and apparently teeming with wildlife. What little information we've gathered so far about its sun has confirmed that the light it emanates is not as harmful in extended exposure."

"There's one small problem," Eridan says. "The freakish subliminal imagery Gam talked about earlier with us said that she disappeared on that planet." Vriska shoots him a look. More information she should have known about. "What?"

Looking back at Kanaya, Vriska sees that she is looking down at her hands. "I have reason to believe that when one's connection with the Gl'bgolyb is lost, it means they're gone. I have no definitive proof, though." Vriska remembers talking to Tavros about the lusus-troll connections. With some castes, like fuchsia, teal, and brown, it is entirely possible to have connections with a lusus through minds. It's not quite mind control per se, but she can't remember the rest. It was all nonsense to her. Now she wishes she would have listened when he babbled on and on about that stuff in bed.

"If I may contribute," Feferi pipes up. "At this distance, I can still hear my lusus' thoughts. She's worried that I'll never return to the ocean, but she's very patient!" She smiles a smile that makes Vriska want to gag. It's too happy. No wonder Tavros fell for that. "I told her that I will return home soon, so there's no need to worry about her letting out a vast glub!"

"Thank you, Feferi. You have clammed my fears." Ugh!

"Was that a fish pun, Kanaya?" Feferi asked.

"Was it good?"

"Idiots!" Karkat intervenes. "We can't go back now!" Everyone turns to him. He looks about to explode. Vriska imagines Karkat getting so angry that he combusts spontaneously, and it's a hilarious sight. "Literally everything that we've worked for to change Alternia is now in the fucking sewers!" He turns to Feferi. "What happened to all that bravado you had, huh?! Where is it!" To Eridan, "I'm pretty sure you never wanted to change anything!" And to Nepeta, "And I hate to fucking say it, but you're the only asshole on this damn ship who even thinks about these things anymore!" She blinks, but is cut off by more yelling. He turned to the rest of the group. "Everyone is so wrapped up in their own problems, pitying themselves for no reason! I've gotten over it! Nepeta has gotten over it, _you two_ never gave a shit about Alternia in the first place," he points to Kanaya and Vriska, which she agrees with now that he pointed it out. "And now that I have your attention, Feferi what the _fuck?! _You took my ancestor's journal, went all gung-ho about his shit visions, and now you're… you're…" He viciously wipes away tears.

"Karkat, I—"

"TEREZI DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!" he shouts at the top of his lungs. At that, he storms off to the door like a spoiled wiggler. He stops and turns to Vriska. He looks about to say something, but doesn't, slamming the door open against the adjacent wall. That was cold, even for Karkat.

As Vriska saw all this unfold, she can't help but agree with him.

* * *

"It's all my fault," Feferi manages to say. Everything was. Karkat was right. She got the journal from Terezi, who had taken it to blackmail him so that they would become matesprits eventually, but it ended up not working out that way. She gave it to Feferi to help hide it, and what better place than under the sea? But then she started reading it for fun, and the rest was history. She got Eridan to help, then she hired Karkat to help her, and both were reluctant. She should have known betta than to force them into something as dangerous as politics. If she hadn't even cracked it open, had that stupid curiosity get the better of her, her friends would still be alive.

"Fef, don't cry," Eridan says. She looks to her side, where Eridan is offering his own cape to wipe away her tears. She didn't even realize her eyes were leaking. She accepts it, wiping the water away. "Come on," he whispers with open arms. Sniffling, she scoots closer and he wraps his arms around her.

"I hate to interrupt, but I do have one more point to say about the planet we're headed to," Kanaya says.

"Go ahead, I'm fine now," Feferi says, giving a weak smile and resting her hands on Eridan's forearms. She really is, she promises herself.

"It may be entirely possible to make it a new Alternia. Repopulate, so to speak." Feferi felt Eridan shifting his position. "If this works, we can make the rules: no more empresses, no more violence, and the only loss we will suffer is after a long and happy life."

Feferi never would have thought of that, making a new place for trolls to live! She hasn't told her lusus yet, but instead of trying to change a place so well established in tradition and corruption and tyranny, so conservative that it rips itself apart, she can make a new one instead. She lets her imagination run wild at what kind of place she could create.

"At the moment, I feel that I have explained everything, so we will adjourn."

"Kanaya, please." Vriska puts a hand in front of Kanaya's face. "I'm captain, so I end the meetings." She pauses. "Go away!"

They all do so, save Kanaya, who shakes her head at Vriska's retreating figure, and Feferi and Eridan.

"Kanaya, can I ask you something?" Feferi says shyly.

"Yes?"

"Can we, Eridan and I, can we borrow your pile of fabric? I need a feelings jam." She decides that now is a good time and place to finally have one. It seatainly has been a while.

"Of course," Kanaya answers with a gentle smile. "Take all the time you need. We still have eight more months before we get there."

"Thank you, Kanaya! Eridan?" She takes his hand.

"Yeah!" he replies a little too loudly. He flushes violet and looks away. He's so cute.

* * *

"Karkat, I need to speak with you for a moment." Kanaya has been hounding him for months. If she wants to apologize, then she can lick his bone-bugle until she's blue in the face. Oh wait, she doesn't have blue blood, so that'll _never happen!_ He's been burying himself in star maps, away from everyone except Vriska sometimes.

"No," he replies.

"Please hear me out."

"No."

"I need to know something that you know."

"No!"

"Please Karkat, it's important!"

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no! I don't care!"

"It's about our ances—"

"I don't fucking care!" He used to give a shit about Kanaya because she was the only sane one on this bleeding asshole ship. But clearly, she never gave a shit about their home planet, politically or not, so she basically betrayed him.

"I need to know!"

"Shut the fuck up! I don't care, I don't care, I don't care!"

He feels a hand on his shoulder stopping him. Before he can rip himself away, he's forced to turn backwards where he sees Kanaya holding a chainsaw and about to rev it.

"Shit!"

"Please…" Her face is definitely pleading, her lips lightly pursed and her eyes an unmistakable sheen and bloodshot. It doesn't match her pirate garb.

Karkat breathes in, letting his deprived lungs get some air. "Okay," he sighs, defeated. "Do you want to sit here in the hallway or…" They're just outside the consumption room, which should be locked when no one is eating in there.

"Here," she answers, putting the chainsaw away after turning it back into a tube of lipstick. She takes out a ring of keys and unlocks the room, both of them entering alone and locking the door behind again.

Karkat picks a table nailed to the floor and sits in a bench that is also nailed to the floor. Not much room, but it's better than the top deck. "Ask."

"A few months ago, when you were yelling at Feferi, you mentioned something about you ancestor's journal."

"Yeah?"

"And if my assumptions are correct, you have bright red blood, am I correct?"

"Get to the point."

"We may have, well not us, our ancestors may have known each other intimately."

Karkat rests his chin in his hand, highly concerned.

"I don't know much about her, but I think that we might be connected through it." She struggles with her words. He guesses he would struggle too if he was trying to make a connection between ancestries.

Wait a minute. "I, uh…"

"Karkat, what does his journal say about someone named…" She swallows carefully. "The Dolorosa?"

That's it! He knows now! Kanaya's been so familiar to him, but he's never seen her before in his life. He has that fucking journal memorized, and he remembers a drawn sketch of a female troll with horns similar to Kanaya's with short hair and billowing clothes. It was colored, but it was a faded brownish-green color. It really did look like Kanaya in a dress. The picture was titled "The Dolorosa" on the bottom of the page. "She raised me and supported me. I would not have lived if it were not for her."

"The look on your face means yes?" she asks.

"More than yes," he answers, half laughing. "She rescued my ancestor from death! I wouldn't be fucking _alive_ if it weren't for her!" There were a lot of pages about her in it. More maybe than even his ancestor's matesprit.

"Do you have it? Can I read it?" she asks excitedly.

"No, it's long gone."

Kanaya's dejected face breaks Karkat's heart.

"But I know it by memory!" he assures her, trying a bit too hard there.

"Can you tell me about her?" She looks at him eagerly, happily even. At first, he thought she didn't have many emotions to spare, but now… What is this feeling suddenly developing?

Before Karkat can answer, they are jolted out of their seats and strewn across the room. The door becomes unhinged and hangs open by the deadbolt. That infernal bell is heard from just outside the door.

"Everyone, evasive maneuvers!" Vriska. "We're headed into an asteroid field! All hands on deck!"


	10. Of Cosmic Love

"I'm thsorry, AA," Sollux mutters for the two-billionth time since they were forced back on this ship twelve months ago. He hates himself for getting her involved in this bullshit. When he made that deal with Vriska, he didn't expect to have to cash in so soon, or at all. He thought her dumb pirate plans were all bunk, but _NO_. He had to go and make their home explode in his secret stash of mind honey. Aradia wasn't too pleased when they had to leave their entire lives behind again, but they kind of had no choice this time.

A groan.

Sollux's bicolored eyes snap open. He jerks his head up so fast that his helmet computer nearly flies off his head. "Aradia?!" He leans over the small vat and strokes her cheek lightly.

"Solluck?" she breathes. Her eyes aren't open yet, but she's definitely waking up!

"I'm here, AA. It'th Thollukth!"

Finally, her eyes flutter open and she looks over to him. "Silly, why are you crying?" she asks, laughing softly.

"I'm not crying." He blinks, feeling the liquid run down his face. He wipes them away, saying, "I'm not!" Time to man up in front of your matesprit. She tries to get up but he stops her. "Thtay there, you're in your own cocoon, you don't have to share."

"Neat." She takes a breath and looks around. "Where are we?"

"Vrithka'z ship. We survived and you kind of fainted after we took off." A pause. "You've been gone nearly twelve months."

Shocked, her eyes widen slightly. "I'm sorry. You must have been lonely."

"I wasn't lonely. I came here every day."

"You didn't have to," she says, turning away. He caught a glimpse of her face turning a shade of burgundy.

"Who else do I go to?" he asks.

Awkward silence.

"We're not swaying." She noticed. "Where are we?"

"We're not on Alternia anymore."

She blinks slowly, then scrunches her eyebrows together. "What?"

"Thpaith. Outer Thpaith. Bluh, that wasth hard to thay." He sticks out his tongue at the end of that. It's a stupid habit he developed after saying too many s's. Aradia giggled when she first heard it, so he never bothered to stop.

After staring at the ceiling for a few seconds, she asks, "How long have I been out?"

Before he could answer, the ship suddenly jostles violently, followed by Vriska yelling and ringing that bell of hers outside the door. The troll children who had been sleeping until now immediately spring from their slime and run out the door to their stations. He should too, now that he had time to think.

"What's going on?!" she shouts over the bell-clanging. She stumbles out of her cocoon and Sollux catches her with his psionics, leaving her floating midair.

"I have no idea!" He gains his balance again and finds Vriska, taking Aradia with him. He catches her at the stairs. "What the fuck is happening out there?!"

"Asteroids! Thousands of them! Out of nowhere!" She orders some other crew members to other parts of the ship. "I'm going to need all the help I can get, so get your ass to your station!" She rushes up the stairs to the top deck, yelling, "I'm not losing my ship over this!"

He can't argue with that. Shaking his head, he brings Aradia into his arms and carries her princess-style to the brig, the most secure part of the ship. "You just woke up, so you need to rest."

"You're so sweet Sollux. I'm fine, though." He squints his eyes at her. "Stop being so serious as death!" She hits his shoulder and gives him a sincere smile. He feels only slightly better.

"Okay. See you, AA." He backs away with a wave and charges back up the stairs, skipping steps. Finally, his mind can be at peace again.

* * *

Karkat feels like he's going to be sick.

Nope scratch that, he _knows_ he's going to be sick. The ship being tossed this way and that by Vriska's terrible driving skills told him that much. Is she even qualified to have a ship this large?!

"Where's an experienced psionic where I need one!" Vriska shouts, dodging another giant space rock. One thing Karkat can appreciate is that the ship has not been hit. Yet.

"Right here," Sollux says from behind, a tiny version of himself otherwise known as "Mituna". How a screeching brat like him was a part of the key to their survival was beyond Karkat's comprehension.

"It's about time! Get these stupid rocks out of the way! My sevenfold can only predict a safe passage for a few miles at a time!"

"Aye, aye!"

"Karkat!"

"What!" Karkat yells.

"I need you with Kanaya at the stern with Kanaya! Make sure no one falls overboard! And get your lifeline on, you bumbling idiot! You're dead weight to me if you die! And dead weight gets thrown overboard!"

He can't argue with that, so he does what she says. Making sure his rope was secure, he fumbles and slips his way to the back of the ship in the turmoil. Kanaya also struggles to keep herself.

"I assume this is the worst possible time to talk about our ancestors?" she asks, keeping her eyes on the various crew in the sails above.

"You think?" Karkat does the same, finding it hard to find even one troll child.

"Karkat, pay attention!" She points to Cronus about to hit the railing. He rushes over and catches him just in time. Without so much as a "thank you", he springs away and climbs back to his post.

"What a douche, he didn't even—" Karkat is interrupted by another order from Kanaya.

"Incoming! Horuss this time!"

"Wait, what?!" _BAM!_ The sweaty child slams into Karkat's side. Horuss at least mumbles an apology as he scrambles to his feet.

This is it. This is Karkat's life. Catching falling trolls and releasing them like he was on a fucking fishing expedition. Can it get _any better_ than _this?_

* * *

Aradia ties herself to some of the bars of the cages in the brig. One thing she doesn't want to do is be thrown about like a corpse in a sarcophagus. Tightening her knot, she nods in satisfaction. She looks up after she is done and is taken aback by the sudden appearance of the spitting image of herself standing in front of her.

"Ohayou, Aradia-chan," she greets.

"Damara! You're getting better at surprising me," Aradia laughs. "But please speak Trollian, I'm a little rusty on my dead languages."

"Gomen-nasai, Ane-san." A pause. "Don't die this time." And just like that, she vanishes.

She feels a chill. Something about her descendant's demeanor told her that she wasn't referencing Aradia's recent brush with death. She double-checks her ties and slides down the vertical bars to the floor.

"I don't know much about omens, sis," a sudden voice breaks through the darkness. She jumped in response. "But I'm about Faygo percent sure that the tiny you speaks motherfucking miracles."

"What does that even mean?" She keeps her voice even. She's faced tougher foes than slime-addicted highbloods.

He just giggles to himself creepily.

Aradia sighs, deeming it useless to converse with crazy people. She focused on huddling in her spot, trying not to die.

* * *

After hours of near-death experiences and Captor-Serket teamwork, they clear the field mostly unscathed. Karkat complained of broken limbs, of course, and the ship sustained some scratches, but everyone else was fine, according to Vriska's mental sweep of the place. She sighs with relief and summons Aranea to take over steering.

"Sollux, keep us at double-light speed," she orders.

"How long?"

"Shouldn't be too long." She uses her special eye to estimate the distance. "Two-and-a-half hours at best. Make sure to slow to half-impulse when we get within two-hundred kilometers. It'll add half a day to our journey, but…"

"I guarantee you I am more done with thish shit than you are."

"Then I don't have to thank you." She pats his shoulder as she passes by.

Sollux scoffs as she walks away. "Whatever, bitch."

Vriska eyes her moirail being a bit too pale with a certain mutant, so she makes a bee-line for the pair. "Did anyone die today, Karkat?"

"Fuck you," he replies.

"Now that we're free from that debacle, it'll take about half a day to get to the planet. And since we have some time now…" She meets Kanaya's gaze coldly. "Kanaya, my quarters?"

"I'll be down as soon as I get Karkat to his cocoon," Kanaya says.

"He can find his own. He's not broken, just bruised. He'll get over it." Vriska feels her eye twitch involuntarily. "_Now_."

"Fine." Vriska turns. She hears Kanaya whisper something to Karkat, who responds with a dismissive comment. He's not a weakling. He can do things without help from others. Like _walking_.

"What do you need?" Kanaya asks as soon as the door is shut behind them.

"Are you pale for him?"

"Who?"

Vriska turns to her quickly. Is she _really_ asking this question right now? "Karkat."

"Karkat?" she laughs lightly. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You know full well what I'm talking about! You've been in his business for months like you want to get in on his quadrants for months now!" It came out a little strong, but her point was made. "Are you pale for him or not?!"

Kanaya sighs, eyes downcast. "It's not what you think."

Vriska narrows her eyes. "En_light_en me," she says through gritted teeth.

Kanaya looks up, but then looks down again. "He knows things about my ancestor," she confesses.

"Is that what this is all about? Your ancestor?!" Vriska yells. Kanaya visibly winces. It still came out a lot stronger than she hoped, but she forces herself to calm down. Kanaya's not cheating, they're just talking about the past, that's all! She takes a deep breath. "Sorry I yelled."

"You've had a tough year. You need time to mourn, and for the past twelve months, you've been busy navigating us through deep space. No one will blame you if you yell a few times."

"Thanks. When we get to the planet, I think—" A pause. Vriska has seen this before. That was real slick, Kanaya. Reeeeeeeeal slick. "I think you should tell me why you're suddenly so invested in your ancestor."

She hesitates. "Well, it rather uhm… It came on as a gradual curiosity than anything else." She laughs nervously, like she'll be hated if she tells the whole story. Pssh. As if. "Karkat's outburst about eight months ago may have been the catalyst that made my curiosity gain such magnitude."

"Look Kanaya, as long as you're not leaving me too, you don't have to explain a thing." Mainly because she doesn't care _that_ much. Kanaya has her own life, and Vriska just needs to learn that not everything is about _her_.

* * *

"Vriska. Vriska!" Sollux's voice echoes in her head. How in the fuck?

"Before I ask how you reversed my telekinetics and getting into my head, are we there yet?" She sits up stiffly in her pod, groaning aloud. Kanaya was long gone.

"Yes."

Shit! "How long has it been?"

"Exactly how you calculated. Except for one detail."

"What."

"I'm about to pass out. I'm getting Latula's help right now getting my mind out to you, but I'm not going to last much longer, and the gravity field for this planet is taking a toll on my already exhausted psionics. You'd—ter—get up—"

"GOGDAMMIT, SOLLUX!" Vriska shouts as the ship suddenly jolts for the eight-trillionth time today. She races out of her quarters, extorting her excellent sea legs, and finally gets to the top deck relatively unharmed. She finds Sollux face-first on the wood, Latula and Mituna shaking him violently in an effort to wake him up. She orders them to get him to the brig, and for the rest of the crew to do the same. The sails were already drawn on all the masts, so she should have full and complete control of her ship.

Her mind wanders back to when she first designed her ship, constantly arguing with the Engineer troll girl. Vriska was told that having a system that constantly recycles the same amount of slime to be filtered back into the exact same pods was a stupid idea since slime was already a renewable resource as well as biodegradable and completely safe for the environment. That "stupid idea" turned out to be pretty handy didn't it! Hahahahahahahaha!

"Shit!" She nearly crashes into an artificial satellite. There have been a few of them lately. Were they remains from other planets? No, the dark planet below is lit up like a tree on Twelfth Perigree's Eve. She double-checks to see if everyone had made it to the brig. "Is everyone in the brig?"

There is a flurry of affirmative responses and some angry, scattered thoughts from Karkat.

"Then lock up and buckle down, trolls and gentlemen, we're going in for a rough landing!" She uses her sevenfold and spots a very small, unlit island in the darkness, just outside of another cluster of islands with lights on them, and steers in its general direction. It's a bad idea to land on an island that is completely cut off from civilization. But if the natives look nothing like trolls, they're all going to be fucked.

Then she spots the bow of her magnificent ship turn a bright orange. The ship is going way too fast. They'll burn up in the atmosphere at this rate! Ships don't have breaks, and if she can't find a way to slow down, she'll have to rely on the sunshields that were only meant to hold air. Another invention that Vriska fought tirelessly for. If she had her way, then they would have had more time to install the thing.

She reaches into her pocket with one hand and pulls out all eight of her eight-sided dice. She gazes at them for a few seconds before closing her eyes and blowing on them. "All the luck," she whispers to herself. It was too loud to hear, but she knew she said it. If there was any moment where she needed her luck, now would be the time.

The flares at the bow had engulfed half of the ship now and the sunshield is quivering badly.

She takes a chance and rolls the dice.

One-by-one they hit the deck.

1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… 7… 8. A Run! Vriska smiles wildly and grips the steering wheel tightly. It's just enough. "Yes!" All she has to do now is believe in her luck.

* * *

"I have to get the matriorb!" Kanaya screams.

"Kanaya, we have to get to the brig!" Karkat yells back. He's trying to drag her by her arm, but she is strong against him. "Let's, _GO!_" He wraps his dominant arm around her waist and gropes for something to grab onto.

"Karkat, release me! I have to get it!" She struggles, and finally escapes his grip. She slides along the smooth floor to the treasure room, where she kept the thing.

"Why is that fucking thing so important?!" He chases after her.

"Our mission would be for nothing! I need to—no, we all need it!" She throws the door open and enters, disappearing into the darkness. Karkat nearly slips on his own ass in all the commotion. Her reappearance startles him. She's clutching the small chest with one arm while balancing herself with the other. "You wouldn't understand."

"You're right, I wouldn't!" He snatches her hand and leads her to the last set of stairs to the deck below. "What I do understand is that I don't want you to die for some bullshit mission that probably failed before we left the planet! You're way more important than some stupid egg, dumbass!" Crap, that probably came out weird.

She didn't say anything else and let him take her to the brig and used the lifelines to secure themselves to the bars. He hopes that the bars are truly strong enough to withstand the strongest lusii, because he'd rather not die with these assholes.

* * *

_"Karkat."_

"Five more minutes, Terezi," he mumbles.

_"Karkat, wake up."_

"I said five more minutes."

"Karkat!" _Slap!_

He awakens with a jolt. "Oh my god, what?!" He holds his cheek in his hand and looks to whoever just hit him. "Kanaya?" She's looming over him like a mother grub.

"We've crash-landed. And we're alive." She straightens herself up and looks about. "It seems we are in a thick forest." She sniffs the air. "I can smell salt water, so we must be close to a beach."

"Where are the others?" he asks, sitting up. Every limb hurts. His head especially. Motherfucking everything hurts.

"I don't know."

He glances behind her and sees the matriorb's box. She managed to rescue it, he notes. "The matriorb?"

"Unharmed."

"You?"

"Also unharmed."

"What about me?"

"You're fine, Karkat."

"Good." He lies back down in the dirt and stares through the canopy accusingly, the sky above it a light blue. This planet is fucking weird. "Now what?"


	11. What If This Storm Ends?

Where the glub did she land? Eridan thought that he was fortunate to be a seadweller at this moment. He had been searching for Feferi on the ocean floor all night. In his swimming, he discovered that somehow, this planet has pretty much the exact same fish that Alternia does.

He remembers every second of the crash last night. They were all huddled in those fuckin' cages. He and Feferi were in one of them by themselves, and so was Karkat and Kanaya. Everyone else in the crew had been small enough to fit in the largest one, including Gamzee, Aradia, and Sollux. Vriska didn't join them, so he can only assume that she either fell overboard or was dead.

"I wonder whose bright idea it was to let the lowbloods drive," he mutters, air bubbles coming out of his mouth.

On a whim, he looks up to the surface and sees a floating body with long, flowing hair, clinging to a piece of what he recognized as a part of the ship. It's not as long as Feferi's so it has to be someone else. He sees horns and immediately swims up to it. As he breaks the surface, he realizes that it's their captain. He checks for a pulse and finds one. Dam.

"Oi! Captain Mindfang Spinneret! Wake up!" He slaps her around a bit, but she doesn't stir. He sighs and looks for land. Through the fog, he sees a thick forest on top of a steep cliff. Maybe that island had a beach he could drop Vriska off and continue his search for his beloved Feferi. He detaches her takes her shoulders to backstroke towards the island.

He doesn't have to swim very far around the island to find a beach low enough to flop the troll girl on. For all he knows, he could have passed Feferi on the way. Before he leaves, he removes his cape and drapes it over the captain. Why does he do so much for someone he detests? He'll think about it later. For now, keep on swimmin'.

"Aradia!" Sollux calls out, hands cupped around his mouth. He woke up alone for the first time in twelve months. There was evidence of both him and a few more bodies being dragged ashore, but they had all either walked off or got swallowed up by the ocean that lapped at his feet and woke him up just an hour ago.

"You should try the trees, brother," a voice says from above. He looks up to see Gamzee sitting on one of the branches, leaning against the trunk. He breaks off a twig and puts it between his lips, sucking it like a straw. "Miraculous honey from the heavens, is what I'm sayin'."

"Gamzee, I don't have time for your shit. Have you theen Aradia?" he asks vehemently. He can't lose her again. Can nobody understand his desperation about this?

"Hmmmm…" A pause.

"Hello!"

"Sorry, man. Spaced. I saw her over that way. Just missed her." He points half-heartedly in the direction Sollux was already headed.

"Thanks," Sollux answers just as half-heartedly.

He continues calling out until his throat nearly gives out. After what seemed like endless searching, he found a run-down hive, four stories tall, and troll children running about. As he runs towards it, one of them sees him and call the others. One by one, all twelve reveal themselves, emerging from hiding places in and outside the building, and crowd around him asking the most ridiculous questions.

"All of you, shut up! Have any of you theen Aradia?"

"She's the hunter!" Meenah chimes. Great , a game of 'Hunt and Seek'. At least she's okay.

He bends down to the tiny troll's level. "Okay, lithen, I need you to get her for me. It'th important."

They all nodded and scurried off. Sollux has no idea why she can't just let them not be mind-controlled all the time. They seem to do what he tells them to do most of the time. He shrugs and approaches the doors of the hive. If Aradia was around she would say—

"It has potential."

He whips around to see his matesprit thinking deeply while looking at the architecture. She has her chin in her hand and she's doing the pout thing with her lip that indicates approval.

"I mean, I look at ruins for a living, and this is more than stable for us to live in."

He doesn't hesitate in throwing his arms around her neck, pressing her face to his chest.

"Mm muff fuf mifft me."

"What?"

She frees her face and says, "You must have missed me."

"Damn right, I did. I'm just glad you're alive."

Karkat and Kanaya have been walking for a while now. They came to some cliffs earlier, which Kanaya nearly fell off of because she wasn't watching where she was going. Karkat had to jerk her away, almost making her lose the key to trollmanity. The act of kindness earned him a lecture on god-knows-what because he stopped listening. Something about not handling her and her precious cargo so roughly.

"So what happened?" he asks.

"Do you not remember?" she asks curiously.

"I seem to remember passing out when my ears imploded." His body doesn't react well to changes in pressure. "Must be a mutant thing or whatever the fuck."

She frowns, still confused. "Well for starters, some of us were in separate cages in the brig, and when the ship broke apart, the cages did too. They were meant to be detachable from both the ship and each other. The bottom of the ship had given out and broke off, sending the cages down to almost certain death." She stops to make the scarf she tied around her waist into a makeshift carrying case for the matriorb. "Fortunately for us in particular, we were not far from the ground when we landed. As a matter of fact, our cage landed in the trees."

"So you dragged me out of the tree?"

"Yes."

"And which one did you rescue first, me or that dumb egg thing?"

"Karkat, that is really rude. I honestly don't know where you come up with these silly ideas."

"That's not a fucking answer."

She stops walking and turns toward Karkat, and rolls her eyes. "You of course. I value the ones already living before the ones that may or may not survive the hatching process. So far, the matriorb has been fine, but I didn't want to take the risk of it being damaged and lose both of you. I'd rather save you than a silly egg."

Oh. He slaps his forehead hard. "My past self asks really stupid things sometimes." He wants to bang his head against a tree. How could he say such a thing! Sometimes when a person frustrates him to no end, he just can't help being an asshole. That is, everyone that isn't Karkat frustrates Karkat.

"In any case, we were less than ten feet off the ground."

Karkat smacks his forehead again. Even if he fell out of that cage head-first, he probably would have survived.

Kanaya continues to blaze their trail. "If we can't find a cave soon, there won't be much time to finish incubating this thing."

"You're worried about the matriorb when we need shelter ourselves? Kind of hypocritical if you ask me." No, idiot, stop being stupid!

She doesn't even turn around. "I'm fine for a while yet. Plus, we're bound to find the others soon, so we could all work together to make a shelter. Why, are you tired already?"

"_No._" He's not! Really!

"Good, because I think I hear the laughter of tiny troll children."

True to Kanaya's senses, they come upon a clearing with a beat-up hive about four stories tall with way too many windows, with the troll kids chasing each other around in the grass. Aradia and Sollux are also there, playing along with them.

"Karkat!" one of them shouts. Uh oh.

"Karkitty!" Meulin used a cat pun on his name. Oh sweet jegus, no.

All of a sudden, all twelve of the trolls pounce on him, and he crumples immediately under the weight.

"Get off me!" he yells, squirming. He looks to Kanaya for help, but she just giggles behind her hand. "Help me, damn it!" He doesn't appreciate this one bit. One. Little. Fucking. _Bit_.

"Everybody off, the grown-upth need to talk." Sollux. Finally, someone who gives a shit. The children "aww" and go play somewhere else. Sollux looks down at Kanaya's scarfbag and asks, "Is that it?"

"Yes it is," she answers.

"Awethome. Aradia and I were eckthploring that huge-ath hive and found a bathe-ment." He gestures behind him to the building with his thumb. "Perfect for a mother grub to lay eggth and shit."

"Thank you, Sollux." Since when did he even care about that shit? No matter, at least there will be a roof above their heads. The clouds spell rain.

Eridan was tired. He started getting tired as soon as the sun went down. He still couldn't find Feferi anywhere. Maybe she was on land? But there was so much more ocean to search. He worried that she might have been injured in the crash after she slipped from his fingers. That worrying made him search even more desperately.

But he was also tired of himself. He had come to terms with who he was before: highblood, seadweller, Feferi's companion, fearless wielder of a legendary weapon. That was before he didn't have the option of seeing different trolls every day. Twelve months on a ship and only seain' the same dumbfin trolls every day gave him nothing short of cabin fever. It pushed him to be alone and reevaluate his life. In doing so, he realized he was a glubbin' douchefin and he hated himself for it. On the ship, everyone was in the same boat, so to speak, which made them equal. In the past, he had always treated the lower castes how they were, but after being on the ship for so long he began to realize that their equal statuses didn't allow him to treat them like dirt anymore.

So what if they're all the same now that they're on an alien planet?! He might be sick of himself, but that's no reason to go and change who he is. It's too late for that, anyway.

Something bumps his leg.

He squints his eyes and peers through the darkening waters at the large, light gray shape circling him. He rolls his eyes. Typical shark behavior. It looks like he's going to have to establish superiority with this planet's wildlife as whale. He clenches his fist and gives the oversized fish a strong punch to the snout and several short jabs to its eyes, forehead, and gills. He smirks when the shark starts to flail. With one hand he grabs the gills, and with the other he grips the pectoral fin. Grunting, he takes the shark up to the surface and launches it away from the general direction of the island.

"That'll teach you to mess with Eridan Ampora, you uncultured carcharodon!" he yells into the air. He huffs and dives back into the water.

"Feferi…" Nepeta mutters, nudging the older troll with her paw—HAND. With her hand. She woke up by herself, but then she found Feferi in a lagoon while exploring, the water gently lapping at her feet. Nepeta had dragged her out of the water carefully. Now they're sitting in a tree, Feferi's clothes hanging to dry.

It's quite cold here, Nepeta thought. She only brought a half-jacket, so she relinquished it and put it on the seadweller, arms and all. She doesn't know much about seadwelling trolls, but from what she heard, they actually prefer the cold waters.

While she debated putting her back into the water, Feferi stirs.

"Er'dan?" she slurs, sitting up. She stumbles when she realizes she's on a branch. Nepeta herself feels natural in the trees, so it's not such a big deal to be up nearly forty feet up.

Nepeta frowns slightly and shakes her head. "Nope. Just little ol' Nepeta Leijon," she answers.

She widens her eyes and flushes. "Sorry Nepeta." She looks around carefully and eyes her clothes hanging behind Nepeta's head. "Why am I in my underclothes?"

"You were wet, and it's really cold here." Nepeta shivers and rubs her arms.

"Nepeta, I'm fine! I live in water, so I'm used to it. Here." She takes off the jacket. "Take it back, I'm good."

The cat troll takes it back readily. "Are you _shore_?"

Feferi laughs at the attempted pun. "I'm _paw_sitive."

Nepeta relaxes a little bit. She's never been alone with Feferi before, so it's bound to be interesting. She stands up easily and retrieves Feferi's threads. "They're almost dry. I tried blowing on them, but it didn't help furry much."

"I seappose it wouldn't." Feferi swallows uncomfortably. "Can we get down? I'm not too good with heights…"

"No need to fear, Nepeta is here! I'll carry you down."

Before Feferi could refuse, Nepeta takes her by the arm and hoists the highblood onto her back. She leaps from limb to limb playfully while Feferi clings for dear life.

Nepeta lands on her feet. "We have landed."

"That was so exciting!" Feferi cried happily. "Do you travel like that all the time?"

"Yep! My lusus taught me!"

Feferi's expression suddenly drops. Nepeta immediately feels guilty for mentioning her lusus. Pounce DeLeon has been dead for a long time, so she's used to it. Feferi might never see hers again.

"Are you okay, Fefurry?" She puts a hand on her shoulder.

"I said I'm okay!" Feferi tries to force a smile, but it's not very convincing. Nepeta just wants to hug her friend furever. "I lost contact with my lusus right after the asteroid belt, that's all. I never even got to say goodbye."

That was something Nepeta can relate to. "My hive was a cave, and one day, I came home to boulders blocking the way. Equius and I cleared them out and found Pounce DeLeon inside." She sniffles involuntarily. "But that was when I was six. I'm used to her not being around anymore. Equius was there fur Nepeta instead!"

Feferi stays silent. Nepeta wondered what she's thinking about.

"Anyway, Nepeta thinks she saw a _big_ hive befurr she found Feferi." She showed exactly how big the hive was by spreading her arms out wide. "It's getting dark too, so we need to get warm. Well, I do."

"Let's go, then. I heal fast, so I can walk by myself." She gestured to Nepeta. "Lead the way, frond!"

Vriska wakes up to red skies through bleary eyes. Everywhere feels sore, like she swam around a planet. Why can't she move? What was the last thing she remembered?

She remembers the ship breaking apart. Then she rolled her dice and got a one through eight run. That was cool. She smiles to herself at the thought. The dice are probably gone now. She sighs forlornly. She remembers aiming the ship as best as she could towards the island before the cages started dropping, but since it was so dark, she's not exactly sure where they fell. You kind of drown if you're trapped in a cage and it's dropped in water. It wouldn't have been an issue for the four seadwellers, but who knows if they even cared enough to do so.

Groaning, she sits up. She looks down and sees why her movement was limited. Eridan's dumbass cape, sopping wet and heavy, had been draped over her like a blanket. She's not sure whether to accept the sudden flutter in her viscera or to view it as a challenge. Disgusted, she yells and throws the thing in the sand.

"Wow, Wris," a voice says from the waves. She looks on to see Eridan emerging from them. "Why don't you jus' burn it while you're at it?"

"At least then I won't have to see it ever again," she replies. "Why did you even put it on me anyway? It's wet, the weather's cold, do you want me to die?!" She crosses her arms.

He mirrors her. "Oh, please! You can't die ewen if you wanted to!" He walks over to his cape to pick it up and mutters, "Ungrateful bitch."

Taken aback, Vriska stands up, ignoring the sudden pain in her chest. "Why I oughta…!" She stops herself from yanking the cape away from him and strangling him with it. As he continues walking, unaware of her actions, she brings her fist down and reevaluates her motives. She sneers. "Well, well, well, Eridan. It looks like you have a bone bulge after all."

He whips around suddenly. "I—! Fuck!" He wrinkles his nose. "Don't flatter yourself!" At that, he storms off into the trees.


End file.
